Chamomile....

poem by: Frank Byrne
Written on May 30, 2017

"Again I collapse on the grass, wearing a contented smile,
my nostrils are filled with the aroma of the calming chamomile,
after playing for hours, finally  the football game ends,
my life is just perfect, enjoying these games with my friends,
Lying on my back, dazzled by the warm summer sun in my eye,
as cotton wool clouds sail across a blustery blue sky.
Those endless games of football seem like only yesterday,
but over fifty years have evaporated since those games I loved to play.
So now as I lie in my deckchair,.... now old, and hair grey,
that haunting, sweet smell of chamomile is so fresh to this very day."

 

Tags: happy, love, rhyme, wishful,

Add Comment


Christopher Russon commented:
Nice one Frank .I love the smell of freshly cut grass.
RW Lem commented:
Truly amazing! Paints a beautiful picture.
Frank byrne commented:
Thanks Chris, and RW Lem.......I'm happy that you also can see "the picture" that is etched into my childhood memories.......just the smell of Chamomile.....transports me back to that little field in Kirkby, Liverpool.....ahh....thanks again for your nice comments.....
Ja Ja commented:
A ride down memory lane. Hopefully the vision will never wane. Thank you.
Ja Ja commented:
A ride down memory lane. Hopefully the vision will never wane. Thank you.
Frank byrne commented:
Thanks Ja Ja.....I love my trips down memory lane.....those little "flashbacks," help keep me sane."....
Cecilia Crasto commented on Oct 02, 2017 at 6:49am
That's a creative name for a poem, you have to stop thinking of yourself as old Frank, these days we are told to take 20 years off our real age, so that makes you relatively young, the important thing is to keep the brain ticking and keep drinking the Chamomile tea as well...nice one.

 

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