…on the passing breeze

Cherry blossoms and a deep blue sky
their petals floating down the river of time
a sense of you, a sense of me
and a single cloud drifts slowly by
fresh petals of spring, frail and drifting
scattered fragments of a fading dream
flooding out in graceful silence
and then lost in the endless stream
they simply bloom in pretty fragrant trails
these scented days, like petal after petal
upon my heart they weigh
a gentle breeze, a drifting boat
alone again another day
petals flecked with the gold of the sun
falling like tears from the boundless sky
floating silently downwards into the stream
and in their quiet whispers
I hear you again on the passing breeze
© Ann Bagnall
2014