Sing a song of stirring seed
Where blue sky skims the land
And stark, raw wounds of winter bleed
Into spring’s out-stretched hand
Sing a song of gold delight
As back-wood solitude
Is softly stripped of white on white
Beneath spring’s giddy brood
Then dream and child will run and leap
Like lamb upon the green
And clouds, like flocks of wooly sheep
Will graze on azure sheen
Oh, sing of maple-syrup slope
Or flawless harmony
Of sun and zephyr calliope
And flower fantasy
…or sing about the tiralee
Of bird-joy in the dark
Or rain-notes splashing merrily
And laughter in the park
Hope acclimates to bonny breeze
With ease to dear for word
As in the lane beneath the trees
A wink of spring is heard
Yes, sing a song of almost spring
Of bud-bliss breaking free
Winter may wield its final fling
But sing of spring to me
© Janet Martin
Nine more days! and after the winter we've had five degrees above freezing feels downright balmy.
(never mind what the storm-casters are calling for tomorrow;)
For previously published March poems simply click label 'March'.
For previously published March poems simply click label 'March'.
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I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!