Wednesday, March 21, 2018

March Mosaic...

Sometimes my bones ache with unwritten poetry...until I let it loose

The hard grind of finding just the right text/tints to paint veiled glints into lines,
 leaves one gloriously vexed with the delightful call of...Next?!
March Mosaic was a spin-off from the poem March Music...
yet neither poem quite satisfies my March-poem appetite
where freedom of thought and ink comes with one big expense; Time!

Thatch patches blotch the lofty hill
That long stood poised, pristine and still
Where earth looks like a cottage roof
As March administers spring’s proof

The scraggly limb dons ruby gems
And pussy-willow diadems
Jack Frost must take his art elsewhere
As March kisses him to thin air

The berth that holds bloom-mirth from view
Is cracked where crocuses poke through
Soon hyacinth and daffodil
Will line earth’s sky-wide windowsill

…as nature’s boulevard runs rife
With glorious whispers of new life
Where buckets tacked to maple-trees
Gather taste-bud's sweet luxuries

And though the land looks bland and dead
Beneath its heath of weathered thread
A soundless splurge of colors teems
Where earth is bursting at the seams

…and dreamers bare their muffled necks
Stretch like fat cats on sun warmed decks
And answer to the dancer’s call
Where March makes minstrels of us all

© Janet Martin

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