Monday, May 7, 2018

Spring Things...






Spring fills the fields with buttercups and periwinkle stars
In budded copse and tall treetops, hope spills its faithful jars
As faith-filled onlookers, with humble thankfulness applaud
Where creek is full of chortle and the earth is full of God

Spring flings her truest, bluest hue across fine, middle day
It shooshes clouds upon its hills like little lambs at play
It tweaks the cheeks of tulips and rewards the poet’s pen
After winter has lost its will, with flowered things again

Spring wakes within the woman, whispers of her inner child
It giggles in the garden and drives the land-lover wild
It peeks from every crook and nook like a mischievous lad
And makes even the miser look up with a lilt of ‘glad’

Spring plays a harp of willow-wisp, and strings of greenest grass
And larkspur lavished meadow-lanes; its music is first-class
…and up and down the boulevard each yard is like a stage
Where puppy-dogs and children romp like pets let from a cage

Spring rings the bells of heaven; yellow, purple, coral, gold
And everyone bears witness as its miracles unfold
Where we are all receivers, from the greatest to the least
As nature’s kind Creator spreads earth with spring’s glory-feast


© Janet Martin



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