Thursday, February 27, 2014

Simple the Middle of Winter

…to sit upon a sun-beamed hill
And never need to move until
My cup of tea needs a re-fill

…to watch Old Winter’s bully breed
Drip, drip until spring’s sanguine seed
From Mother Earth’s dark womb is freed

…to use forgotten words like ‘spade’
And ‘gardening’ and ‘lemonade’
And ‘30 Celsius in shade’

…to hear the flap of flip-flop feet
To see noon ripple in the heat
Beneath calm, cumulus cloud-fleet

…or, just to sit upon May's hill
And listen to the lauding trill
Of morning-dove and daffodil

© Janet Martin

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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!