Once again... (is that an oxymoron?) a merry March-melt is under way...
(not so welcomed by Maple-syrup Producers)
When the gray of March turns gold
Warming places cold with doubt
When we glimpse first spring once more
Don’t it make you wanna shout?
When what long held blooms at bay
Falls prey to zephyr-romance
When the bud begins to wake
Don’t it make you wanna dance?
When the earth is primed with birth
Where its girth, a tomb-like glove
Opens up its cloven fist
Don’t it make you wanna love?
When the sun climbs under stars
Over bars of Beginning
Into a new day of grace
Don’t it make you wanna sing?
© Janet Martin
Spring is here, so I know it's headed your way.
ReplyDelete...you make me WANNA SING!!! ;-0
DeleteWhy does this poem remind me of James Whitcomb Riley? I love the rhythm!
ReplyDeleteThank-you!! on both counts:)
DeleteI was looking at a photo yesterday of a field far-flung with blue flowers and the sky unfurled just as bluely above. If I had been in the photo walking through all of that bountiful blue, instead of just wishing I were, I would have been shouting.
ReplyDeleteSo yes, sometimes it does make we want to shout. You first, though, because I'm too shy.
:) do you mind if its a bit off-key?
Deletesometimes what comes out of my mouth is so NOT what I'm hearing in my head!! lol:-0
I love looking at pictures and imagining I was there...hearing the crash of waves on rocks, feeling the the spray soft-kiss my face, inhaling the scent of the sea.