Friday, March 1, 2013

Like a Lamb

She tiptoed in on silver scrim
Of February’s waning
While poets slept softly she crept
Beneath Time’s astral awning

The gilded wing of darling spring
Consoles the frosted tresses
Beneath night’s arch keen, moody March
Whispers of Easter dresses

The phantom skien of moment-mein
Employs its muted measure
As on the hearth of quiet earth
We greet Spring's sweet harbinger

© Janet Martin

I think March came in like a lamb; calm but very cold!

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Thank you for your visit to this porch. I'd love to hear if or how this post/poem touched you!