A Flight to the Finish-line...of Flowers

 After a few snowy, blowy days winter's late arrival seems forgotten!

Then, true to form he came, storming earth’s motley frame of trees

Infamous for his bully ways he brawled all through the night

And howled all through the morning-noon, he wrung a thousand seas

His tardiness forgotten as he swathed the world with white

No more the brooding loneliness of bronze wide-open fell

No more the moody platinum of lowered heavens weep

Now hill and rill, now nook and crook and every dip and dell

Is like a featherbed spread with pillows and throws knee-deep

To everything there is a time and season; columbine

And violet and daffodil and kindred perfumed plume

Are evermore the sweeter for their slumber where the vine

Is brittle for a little while then refurbished with bloom

So, while the wind whimpers at doors and wails at windowpanes

And Old Man Winter is a troubadour of chilling verse

Pour summer’s sought-for second cups and dream a dream of lanes

Fragrant with newborn flowers that soon springtime will disperse

© Janet Martin

Hang in there y'all...it's a fight to the finish-a flight to flowers:)

...and butterflies

...and sun-kissed sand

...and sunset beaches

 

...a finish-line of gold

...and blue

 ...and green