Friday, May 18, 2012


Speak to me in floral sonnets
Sing, oh joyous feathered throng
Nurture me with rippling oceans
Where the pasture leaps with song

Brush your lips across my temple
Zephyr who has known no care
Warm me, sun-beam, with your candor
Stir in me a summer-prayer

Wrap me in your emerald whisper
Cradle me in your embrace
Dance with me on God’s fresh garden
Metaphor of hope and grace

Pleasure me, jasmine and primrose
Starlight gleaming in the dirt
Kiss me, tender sanguine noon-tide
Banish from my thought life’s hurt

Soothe me, periwinkle twilight
Breathe your vesper on hushed sod
Springtime, nature’s quadrille-darling
Spring, a testament of God

© Janet Martin

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