Thursday, March 21, 2013

In March





In March the poplar trees are etched
Like stalwart plumes on waning day
Where every limb is keenly sketched
Against a palette of blue-gray

In March the heart begins to fill
With violet-emerald wanderlust
As gardeners and farmers thrill
To breathe the balm of new-born dust

In March we press against the ledge
Where winter’s will and spring entwine
And all along our daydream's edge
The buxom bud delights the vine

In March the gray and gold collide
Like love; a fire and ice vortex
Of duty, demand and desire
Where will and want please and perplex

In March the woman and the child
Grow restless for life’s kinder things
Like blooming sedges in the wild
Where drifters laugh like pampered kings

In March we feel the heart begin
To understand Time’s transient flow
Portraying tug-of-wars within
Of holding on while letting go

© Janet Martin



1 comment:

Thank you always for your visit and your thoughts.