The first snow of winter,

The first bud of spring,

The first time you hear,

A nightingale sing,

The first bite of chocolate,

The first taste of wine,

The first time you notice,

The passing of time.

The first piece of culture,

The first view of art,

The first time you wonder,

From where did we start.

The first kiss of love,

The first hand you touch,

The first time you know,

That this is too much.

The first time your heart breaks,

The first ache of loss,

The first understanding,

That love has a cost.

The first time is always,

The first time anew,

But the one time I loved,

Was the first time with you.

About helenmidgley

Helen Midgley likes to think of herself as a cross between Dawn French and Kate Moss. She has been in the witness protection programme for a number of years and once lived in Brighton as a bearded mechanic called Dave! Her current incarnation is as a part-time Journalism & Media tutor at a small FE College in Yorkshire. She has survived cancer, dandruff and athlete’s foot and has a penchant for black humour and red wine.

9 comments on “First

  1. It sings to me a joyous song.

  2. Beautiful! I love rhyming poems.

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