March Montage

We are in calm-before-storm mode here:)

 

March is a medley of day-dreamy drafts of garden-rooms

And longer longing looks at winter’s briery shadow-blooms

Of holes worn through thin fabric on a world weary of white

Of earthy-toned mosaics disappearing overnight

March is a mantra moaned and murmured in the barren woods

Prelude to the awakening of cloven-hooded broods

Inaudible, but tangible March-song is torn between

The flailing wands of winter and spring’s hailing fronds of green

March is a moody melody; its Maestro like a child

Of easy, lilting laughter that dissolves in tantrum wild

March sits upon the hill and broods beneath the blue-gray sky

Then alights on the landscape like a yellow butterfly

March stirs hope’s happy hunger for first purple’s promenade

For innocence of bare-feet afternoons and lemonade

For daffodilly dell and fell where flower-bells unfold

For pancakes drizzled with the miracle of maple-gold

March is a canticle of silver-splashing circle-notes

Of lion’s roar and diamonds pouring from bedraggled totes

Of hearty hallelujahs as the grip of winter wanes

Of madrigals that fall on halls primed for what rain unchains

March is a minstrel strumming lintels rife with summer-sage

March is a mistral roaring like a beast freed from its cage

March is a maiden strolling where cajoling zephyrs rove

March is young man, mad with the allure of life and love

March is sun-yellow sweet then sullen as a pouting mouth

Untamed bull from the north, a ballerina from the south

March is the month of hold-let-go, like mothers torn between

The wonder of what waits beyond the throb of what has been

© Janet Martin