I took this video a few nights ago, but as soon as I tried to get closer to the source the song stopped...
Spring’s flood-and-bud beginnings lilt
With dreams of days to come
The sky, like a blue carafe spilt
In blush and emerald sum
How fair its flock of sheep heaped soft
Upon cerulean hill
How rare its palette wafts aloft
Spring’s awesome art to spill
The snows of winter's b-r-r-r are past
Its dirge in purged hearts sighs
Where showers stir a flower-cast
Of petal-storm replies
With violet kiss earth’s drowsing span
Shakes off its last repose
To shoulder, since the curse of man
Both nettle and red rose
The woodland rings with newborn things
The peeper in the pond
The robin and the thrasher sings
Where green-spun strings respond
Bare vault shivers, expectancy
Quivers in every limb
Time’s bow slides slow across earth’s lea
And April is its hymn
© Janet Martin
No comments:
Post a Comment
I hope you enjoyed your pause on this porch and thank-you for your visit!