A Poem I called Romance.

We gathered flowers from the garden

That stretched along the road

 A Mist breathed ethers of love

And in it's vapors we flowed

We picked and plucked the wild scents

Saw silver beads trapped inside a net

That spiders spun in Summer

But caught only now the wet, 

Wet mist, from clean air drunk

As we laughed and talked 

'til talk was sunk

In songs and dancing smiles.

The flowers we placed inside a jar

But somehow were not the same

Lost from those Kerry hills

Looked tethered now and tame

But still they hold a memory

Of a day when rain was a dance

Or a passionate poem

That was sent to me

A poem I called 

Romance.