Spill-stream-run Song

 Forecasters predicted two weeks of this 'trickle-music'

The tree is gold with first-leaf flow’r

The lea is green with spring’s first frills

And overhead the sky is wed

With silver sea that spills and spills

The earth is like a luscious lake

It births the ache of garden-dreams

While all the while from yonder isle

The mirth of rain-song streams and streams

The hill is dotted with first blooms

Where daffodils like sodden suns

Bow ‘neath a sweep of leaden deep    

That fills a fount that runs and runs

© Janet Martin