The still of noon will soon be brushed
With melody of sighs
Though now the park is haunted, hushed
Beneath the warming skies
It won’t be very long until
The oriole, lark and whippoorwill
Their crystal choruses will spill
From green-leaf paradise
…and then the stark and stringent air
And all the quiet cold
Will melt as limbs, budded and bare
Their petal-notes unfold
With rustling joy their hymns caress
The moan of wooded emptiness
In lacy, green-leaf happiness
And whispers fresh and bold
…then they will spread their shadow, glad
Upon the grassy slope
The naked skeleton re-clad
With songs of emerald hope
Beneath their flaunt of lacy limb
And earths refurbished diadem
We revel in the glorious hymn
Of green-leaf calliope
© Janet Martin
Poetics Aside Prompt: Shade/shady
Your poetry always seems to evoke a certain nostalgic response with in me...and for some reason this one takes me back to the days of adolescence running through the fields adjacent to my childhood home.
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