It’s March and soon its melting song will fill our eager
ears
As all across the country-side its white coat disappears
And crocuses begin to press toward the warming sun
It’s March; the month where we declare that springtime has
begun
It’s March; and how our spirits leap to laugh those glorious
words
And how the pulse of gardener quickens as dirt-dreams are
stirred
To tangible fruition as we look at seeds and thrill
Before we revel in the marvel of new blooms about to spill
It’s March and soon the junco on the snow will fly away
As drip-drop notes and sunshine gloats on winter’s last
foray
At last we’ll open windows, shake the dust from curtained
rooms
While singing songs of rain and sun to wake earth’s slumb’ring
tombs
It’s March; the tree limb stripped in fall is decked in ruby
gem
And winter’s mourning madrigal is moping on Time’s hem
Before the jostling zephyr and its chortling melody
Abolishes another winter to Vast History
© Janet Martin
I’m ignoring the forecast for this March of ‘it’s going to
be a lot like February’…
Okay, so this is March 1st. Can't wait to see what transpires between the first and last day...
...broken nature has a lot of healing to do!
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!