Inappropriate Spring
The hay was cut early this year,
before the summer storms came
and dampened the grass.
Iris sprung, bright and out of season,
like love in old age,
irrepressible and impossible.
Perhaps their blooms will turn brown
in just a few days,
withering in the July heat,
but that does not dull their wild purple hues
or cause them to dance any less
in the wind.
If anything,
their unexpected beauty
is more treasured
in the summer heat,
alone in their spectacular dance
instead of lost
in the minuet of spring.
So pardon me if I stop,
and let my gaze rest a bit longer
than is appropriate,
if I bend down and breath in the faint fragrance
that is so out of place,
and smile,
a joyful tear sliding down my cheek
like fire.
About this poem.
No great secret to this poem. Just some pictures taken down the road last week. And some time think on them, and about joys coming to life despite…..
Tom
Quarry House 
“bright and out of season like love in old age, irrepressible and impossible” ….maybe still it could happen….God knows
Of course it can. I have to believe that.
Years ago (26 years to be exact) I fell in love with someone older than me by 13 years. I was surprised by the number of friends and family who fussed and fretted about this difference in age. While both then and now I see only the rarity of the fact we found one another. Like Irises that bloom unexpectedly when least expected – we stumbled onto the love of our lives. We locked arms and never looked back because I think we both knew that within the circle of our love lies an eternal spring.
How wonderful that you found each other! And that you recognize that love has no season. It only has…. love.
Beautifully put…..gives one hope. 🙂