On the First Day of Spring

Like eager school-girls we search your pockets

Tugging at frost-linings looking for gold

But sun-warmth remains sealed in a sullen steel locket

On your astral chest; moody-blue and cold

Yet we know beneath your stern, blustered facade

You are a jovial, generous old man

And soon you will tender your coat to the sod

While sun-beams caress you with kisses of tan

You march to an Hierarchy we cannot control

When you arrive or at last when you go

But Mother Nature kindly consoles

With visions of violets beneath the snow

On the first day of spring we all are children

Dancing on daydreams of freshly-tuned mirth

Of merry-green meadow and daffodil garden

Chuckling somewhere beneath snow-weary girth

On the first day of spring hope dons a grand garment

Of emerald, azure, blush-pink and gold

As we gaze beyond earth’s colorless raiment

Waiting for her flower-fabric to unfold

© Janet Martin 

What today REALLY looks like...no daffodils yet:)