You Are My Bower

Thomas D. Crowther

You are my bower, my summerhouse laden with favourite flowers
Scented and lovely, pastelled and brightly blazing, all petals and peace
When the sun is high, fierce and unforgiving and beating upon my brow
It is to you I turn for shade and shelter, for cooling comfort and repose

And at the tide of autumn, you are my harvest home, my house of leaves
Russet and golden, supple boughs bending to offer fruits and fragrance
When the sun is setting and the owl's light brings in the cool of evening
It is to you I turn for wine and the last sweet rose of my Indian summer

When winter comes howling,  you are my hearthstoned home and harbour
Warmth and bundled, rapt in Yuletide comfort and comfortable consolation
When the sun sleeps or skims the surface, fooling neither bud nor blossom
It is to you that I turn for inspiration, beyond my fear and honeyed hibernation

And when time springs the eternal promise, all shyness and birdsonged
Youthful and dancing, inspired and racing blood, thickened and blooming
When the sun seeps into my heart and bones and sends me leaping and fervent
It is to you that I turn for smiles and approval and signs of loving confirmation

Equinox and solstice twinned, seasoned summers, autumns, winters and springs
All may come and pass and without doubt or favour, come and come again
So whether the sun is high, setting, sleeping or seeping, this I know full and well
It is to you that I turn to share my love and love you now I do and always will.

Dai Crowther 1999

Dai Crowther lives in Goodwick (Wdig), on the Pembrokeshire coast in the West of Wales.


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