On new love…

Spring, a time of renewal, a time for life to shake itself and rise again, a time for love, a time for growth - romance is in the air.

Here’s to the pink that flushes our view; the pink that grows to chase away the winter darkness. The cherries that blossom, the warmth that fills dark empty lungs, making us hum again to a love song.

Is that a blush upon your cheek, so pink and warm and fleeting? Could that only be the reflection of the setting sun making your eyes shine and sparkle? Is it the weather? Is it the time of year? Is it love?

Oh you lucky pair to find such fun.

This spring moved me once, raised more than a knowing smile; but too many springs have dulled my appetite, too much blossom choked me with its sweetness.

I know where I stand on spring with its fluffy pinkness and rising sap. I still remember its action on my blood, my senses alert to the buzzing of newly wakened bees, the birds in couple flitting through the trees. I’m sure I laughed at silly, gambolling lambs leaping in the air, and felt the pull of the rushing water as the sleek pink salmon rushed towards a spawning. I remember well - but now…

I find romance illogical; lambs are meat and salmon is a filling for my sandwich. There is no blossom to cloud my eyes with pinkness, no warmth to flow blood faster. I no longer hum, bees just buzz around and blossom is a flower that falls, turning to brown upon the floors.

But that’s just me, and time. For yours is the pink, not mine.

Oh lucky pair to find such fun.

Enjoy your spring - long may it go on.