Spring Whisper : Romantic Poetry

I saw the Iris in her blue eyes as she walked in from the garden .
There were petals by the door for me .

Blown by the breeze at Kenilworth with no goodbye or beg your pardon ,
my thoughts drifted to poetry .

Rounding off words as the morning went with the echoes of romantic touch , people and perfumed petals fell .

Springtime swept in through Kenilworth’s door and spread a carpet of colour there and then she whispered  -fare thee well .