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  • sharnarosebevan


25th June 2023

As a child my mother planted sweet peas in the front garden.

They climbed up around the front door.

The smell drifting in the open windows.

An intoxicating and heady scent.

Geraniums planted in pots and in the Earth,

Whose various leaves when rubbed produced sweet perfume.

Colourful blooms both small and large,

A childhood legacy, a perfect aroma.

The honeysuckle in the autumn

Growing wild and free in the hedgerows.

The little sip of honey at the base.

A divine golden snippet of heaven.

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