Primrose Promises


 

Primrose Promises

Primrose promises 

of idle days

Morning sunshine

lights up your face

We stop to smell the flowers 

as a rhyme once asked

In no mad rush

nowhere to be, at last

Primrose promises

I made to myself

and as I keep them

so do yellowed books upon a shelf

We stop to relish

simple turn of phrases

‘Tis such a different world

than that of our races

Primrose promises

I taste your leisure

To walk on dewy grass

is such exquisite pleasure

It took a while

It took something brave

but, Primrose Promises, I’m here now

blissfully saved.