PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I have never lingered in a field of heather 

but I can imagine how it feels…

to be enveloped by its pinks and purples…

to experience the beauty it reveals. 

to be intoxicated by its aroma…

like the birds, the air, the bees…

to watch it glisten in the morning sun 

and undulate in the breeze.

I hope one day to walk in heather…I hope I get the chance

I’d love to be surrounded by its beauty…and watch its blossoms dance.

Each year heather loses its blooms…one day its colors fade…

perhaps reminding us how life is momentary…a fleeting serenade…

Yet my hope for heather is never ending…

it's constantly spreading its wings

knowing, even if I miss another year…

it will return in Spring…

I never knew the Heather…who was killed in Charlottesville.

I never got to experience her beauty…and now I never will.

because hate has taken her from us…no longer will she sing…

no longer will she laugh or play…or return to us in Spring…

Yes, I hope one day to linger in a field of heather

and by its beauty perhaps be kissed….

But today, more than ever, I am saddened…

by all the Heathers I have missed.