Hint o' Something

 The last three days have been a sweet yellow hint of something in the air...

Hint o' something kinder, sweeter sparkles on the sun-kissed air

Where the crinoline of winter starts to show its wear and tear

Old man winter seems to chuckle, (out of character is he)

And the brook begins babble illegible poetry

Suddenly without fair warning summer scenes dance through our heads

Because days are more reluctant to be hurried into bed

Hello, garden books and journals, time to dream a green-thumb dream

Hope dons slopes of pink and purple beneath folds of fresh-whipped cream

Something kitten-soft is purring in the pussy-willow tree

Ah, methinks I sense a stirring other than crepe filigree

Where the remnant leaf is brittle yet still captures our gaze

As we marvel at the little wonders that nature displays

Hint o' something warm and charming tugs a grin from north to south

Happiness begins to melt the downcast structure of the mouth

And we join the curious chuckle Old Man Winter has let slip

Where it seems that he has trouble keeping his white-knuckle grip

© Janet Martin