My Kentish Maid

This is a poem I wrote for cleo some time ago.

It sort of sums up what she is to me, and what she will always be:

My Kentish Maid

So delicate oft in pleasant sunlight waits
As lovely as the blossoms by the picket gate
She is the glory in the summer’s garden show
A fragrance that is heady yet, quite slow
Insinuates into the senses deep
And leaves a memory that this mind can keep
Of wondrous days in warming midday sun
And blissful evenings spent in one to one
And everlasting yet her fragrance stays
Inside my mind supportive in the days
When I am not with her the scent is still
My Kentish Maid, has made me yet fulfilled