Abundance
The first warm ray of the sun and wild buttery daffodils and bluebells bloom everywhere. A spring opera of blackbirds, house sparrows and chiff chaffs wakes me. Sap starts rising, trees start greening their heads.
In the growing woods birdsongs compete, willow warblers and swifts, in matings, warnings, gossiping about goings on in the season, whilst cabbage-white butterflies drift and flit like wedding confetti.
Grasses grow tall in the heat, swaying gently with whole worlds for tiny insects. Streams and rivers meander, carving out messages to the sea about abundance and ripeness in summer.
Scarce
Your kiss is cold as the moon. The look in your grey eyes as distant as the stars. The words that come from your red lips drop like dead black flies.
Each time I pull away, you gift me buttery daffodils and my boundaries melt again. Then you freeze and push me away again, so, there am I building walls back up, feeling blue.
I need to become a brave traveller with a green backpack prepped for the wild outdoors. With the hope that out there - the air is warm, breathable and can revive me again.
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