Poem-Schooner

This February morn let’s stroll the countryside, my sweet

Where dandelions laugh like bobbing sunbeams at our feet

Dawn rolls across yon shoreline in a tide of blush and gold

Let’s sit on morning’s front-row seat to watch time’s bloom unfold

Let’s step beyond the shiver-sheen of shoveled walks and such

The velveteen of spring’s first green is easy to the touch

And we are not as far-off as we were from flowered clime

Where poem is a schooner we can board without a dime

…and if we please, we’ll sail the turquoise seas of mid-July

Or afternoon of em’rald June spread beneath sapphire sky

Let’s lure from winter’s white on white an arbor, rose-entwined

A bare-foot rendezvous through meadow lanes wild blue-strife lined

This February morn is like a schooner summer-bound

Then hop on board and praise the Lord for gardens underground

Where nothing stays the same for long above an undertow

That soon strips Old Man Winter’s song of words like ‘cold’ and ‘snow’

© Janet Martin

I'm not rushing winter, but every once in a while its nice to 

climb aboard a poem-ship and sail to warmer scenes

...every once in a while its nice to be reminded

under winter-cold white waits summer-warm greens! 

Instead of boots, flip-flops, 

instead of parkas,

parks filled with laughter of children 

going up, up, up to the blue sky in a swing!