Remember me to Montgó

I gaze across our Montgó valley
to misty far Sierras,
watch the early blush of morning
expose their virgin beauty
that daytime will hide in
blues and erotic purples.
Almond groves and fields emerge
as rising sun wets softer hills,
an echo of her waking body
that used to herald dawn.

Smoke rises from a lazy fire,
a stroke from an artist’s pallet
unmoving on the canvas sky,
only to vanish in an instant
to become another memory.
An image of Javea bay unfolds,
shimmering in a frame
of aromatic pine and eucalyptus,
a hint of her intimate perfume
that fired our time of love.

Rasping crickets and cicadas,
noiseless now in Montgó forests.
Bees no longer hum their flight
through jasmine-laden air.
A dry rose falls silently
in the dusky evening shadows,
while hibiscus fold their petals
to cocoon their daytime boldness
as a homage to her allure
that filled so many nights.

Grapefruit ripen on a tree,
pomegranates, red with jewels,
olives blacken getting fatter.
Mangoes offer subtle flavour
and oranges promise with their juice
a celebration of abundant life,
while thyme and rosemary beg
pick me, squeeze me, taste my spice.
I mourn my fragile woman
who rewarded every day.

Colourful and visual..nice..