A Place She Would Like To Be

She loves the smell of flowers

That spring brings to the air

She longs for summer walks

Free of grief, and great despair.

She longs to feel the warmth of sun

So gently on her face…

As she strolls along the cobblestones,

In some quiet little place.

Perhaps a street in Italy

With its painted frescoed walls…

Where gondoliers sing softly

Of love that lingers on

Oh, but spring in gay Paris

For amour it fills the air

As wild Irises, and lilies

Adorn the streets and fairs

But in truth where she would like to be

Is a place where love can grow

Without life’s stain of cruelty

In a world where she belongs.

Antony King 2018