Tuesday, May 2, 2017

Spill-stream-run Song

 Forecasters predicted two weeks of this 'trickle-music'

The tree is gold with first-leaf flow’r
The lea is green with spring’s first frills
And overhead the sky is wed
With silver sea that spills and spills

The earth is like a luscious lake
It births the ache of garden-dreams
While all the while from yonder isle
The mirth of rain-song streams and streams

The hill is dotted with first blooms
Where daffodils like sodden suns
Bow ‘neath a sweep of leaden deep    
That fills a fount that runs and runs

© Janet Martin


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