The heady scent
of mimosa perfumes
the ascending breeze
as blown tulip petals
drift softly to earth.

Below, overnight rain
steams gently on
the carmine tiles of
medieval houses
huddling together
in narrow streets,
as the early morning
sun gains strength
and smiles kindly
on Comillas.

Nearby a drowsing dog,
rudely awakened,
chastises an infant
wailing for its feed.
On the hill, the
now deserted
university gazes
with empty eyes
on the little town,
the sea, and the
distant, snow-capped
Peaks of Europe,
fiery-streaked in
the light of dawn.

Wisps of smoke
scribble softly on a
blue parchment sky.
A rare yellow-beaked
chough circles in the
sparkling air, seeking
delicacies for its
demanding young.
A stooped, old man
hobbles on cobbles,
bearing home
new-baked bread.

A mother loudly
prompts a child
to rise~ as I,
from my wide-flung
window, embrace
the new-born day.

 N.B Comillas is a small medieval town near the North coast of Spain


Patsy said...

Not long been back from Alicante and Cadiz where I experienced many of the things you've described so beautifully.

Grace said...

Thank you so much, Patsy or your lovely comment and for always taking the time to do so. It certainly makes the writing worthwhile!