It’s fine to see here on this warm October day
The orange of maize heads drying on that roof
Reflecting in the marigolds below
To sit among the rocks and read
Watching butterflies hover in the sun
But missing is the smell of new mown grass
That scents the air of far off England’s summer

About Ben Naga

The Spirit that graces me with its passing has no name and stems not from thoughts and words, though it gathers them up as it flows, but from feeling.

Posted on April 18, 2012, in Poetry, Writing and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. 5 Comments.

  1. I’ve never been to England but after reading your poem, I would sure like to be in that place you write about.


    • The place I am writing about here is in Himachal Pradesh, northern India. Sublime in October, and a reminder of summer in England. I wouldn’t recommend a visit to HP in August though, unless you love monsoon rains. 😛


      • I would much rather visit England any ‘ol day before heading to India. I’ve experienced monsoons in Arizona and have no desire to experience them in India. Cheers!


  2. It is amazing how a scent can bring back memories so vividly, even years later, Ben. For me it is the warm, salty scent of the ocean…


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