This poem eked/leaked out amidst many household chores yesterday...
I'd love to finesse it a little but am on the verge of LOTS of kiddos today,
due to March-break and 'we-miss-Janet's-house'
(hopefully there will be fresh cinnamon buns for morning snacks)
Beneath a lofty latticework of woodland’s red-bejeweled limbs
Where nature’s violinist moves a breathy bow across primed strings
And where the air runs rife with life in harmonies we simply sense
I’ll take a chair and watch the unfolding of winter’s recompense
Where we must wait for rusty gates to groan beneath the weighted tress
Of vines that spill their bud to blooms that fill our cups of happiness
Where winter’s chill revives a thirst for summer’s sea-song serenade
And bare feet dancing to a tune immersed in knee-deep pools of shade
Where gardens grin with half-grown dreams and sparkling streams lure fishermen
Where afternoon bursts at the seams; its fabric blue and green again
Where all the world seems sweet and kind after winter has lost its grip
And left its grit and gale behind where nature’s eaves with blossoms drip
Where we will climb the highest hill to almost touch the lowest cloud
Where time unfurls the daffodil like school-girls standing glad and proud
Where we greet morning with a bounce and sport a smile upon the face
I’ll take a chair, and watch the woodland lose itself in leaf-green lace
© Janet Martin
A glimpse at what is waiting if we just hang in there!