Friday, February 24, 2012

Storm-cloud Sonnet

He unfurls his talons, sharpens his sting
Vampire lunging at bold, unclad throats
He inhales misguided whispers of spring
Spewing his fury in icy-sharp notes
The wanton field ‘neath noon’s azure sonnet
Trees that were dreaming of lacy, green dress
Hills primed for frocks and pretty spring bonnets
Succumb to thrusts of his frigid caress
Visions of blossom and bloom now preside
Somewhere beneath the white veil of a bride

…and now the landscape is a white-capped sea
Sailors don mufflers and bright woolen toques
Somewhere summer waits, over argent lea
Brimming with gardens and chatter of brooks
We will not suffer too long at the prow
Bucking chill rivers on highway and street
Spring is the conqueror of all things snow
This frozen ocean is bound for defeat
Smile at the north wind with blue-puckered mouth
He will fall prey to fair maids of the south

This is the season of warm quilts and books
Then let winds grumble with thick, heavy jowls
Miracles stir in the snow-laden nooks
Quite undeterred by its bully-white howls
Noise is the mask of a fool’s emptiness
Flinging steel teardrops against cheek and glass
Soon its wild tantrum will cease its distress
Mustering threats that dissolve on the grass
This is the season of fire-side bliss
Hot-chocolate-marshmallow, sticky-sweet kiss

© Janet Martin

Song: Storms Never Last

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