Flowers, Stars and Butterflies

A good year

When Pisces swam in Aquarius’

water, Annie and I bathed in bed

on windswept mornings. Walked

in silent woods through snowdrop

carpets on post coital afternoons.

By the time of Aries’ rut, ours was

cooling in the softness of April rain.

While Taurus adorned his horns

with bluebell’s azure cloches, Trish

treated me to thirty days of Bacchus

nights, but as mornings dawned I saw

a perfect flower dying inside a glass.

Roses and campion for Jeanette after

Gemini’s fickle days and solitary nights.

After the claws of the Crab yielded to

Leo’s summer roars, we shared lusty

beds until Libra’s leaves began to curl

and turn to gold, then the sting of Scorpio’s

early snows brought winter to our troth.

Chrysanthemum blooms fading under

Sagittarian sun offered a delicious taste

of youth and the short-lived days under

Tracy’s spell of inherited climaxes closed

a wild year with a gift of knowledge that

the time had come for me to love again.