a glimpse of today's inspiration
It dapples puddles beneath feet
Of laughter innocent and sweet...
It washes shorelines with a song
We have not heard in far too long...
To soak in nature-sculpted nooks
And watch the fisher trawling brooks...
A bolt of fabric, (or, a jolt of magic) flower-spun...
Unrolls beneath the beaming sun
Through bowers burgeoning, bright green
With glints of gold splashed in between...
It washes shorelines with a song
We have not heard in far too long
It decks fruit trees with blossom-show
Then flecks the foliage below
With soundless storms of petal snow
A bolt of fabric, flower-spun
Unrolls beneath the beaming sun
Through bowers burgeoning, bright green
With glints of gold splashed in between
Where long a cold white sash had been
A rush like rivers on the air
Flows through flushed woodland’s lofty flare
While shadow-pools deepen until
There are no shallows left to fill
Beneath the arc where whispers spill
It tickles silver-sparkling streams
Rekindles garden-dinner dreams
Planted in carrots, taters, corn
The heart feels like the world at morn
With vigor, vim and verve reborn
Ancient and stalwart, lilacs frill
The fringes of hollow and hill
They dot the land, like faithful guards
Keeping vigil over graveyards
And feet-forsaken boulevards
Its hemline skims the luring banks
Where people loll in easy thanks
With picnic baskets, blankets, books
To soak in nature-sculpted nooks
And watch the fisher trawling brooks
It dapples puddles beneath feet
Of laughter innocent and sweet
It is a butterfly, a bird
A poem without form or word
A sense of dust that childhood stirred
Is it Heaven or May that trails
Its hemline over rills and vales
To waken bracken, tightly curled
Like fists of green softly unfurled
To weave a winsome wonderworld
© Janet Martin
To waken bracken, tightly curled
Like fists of green softly unfurled...
Love this - the poem and sweet photos!
ReplyDelete<3! thank-you Trish. I had great joy doing this post! Glad you enjoyed it too.
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