In spite of the 'b-r-r-r-risk' beginning to the week we may still feel optimistic
because it's March and sunny today! and we can look forward to temps minus
the minus-dash in front of the digit😁
...an expansion of Saturday's poem
March Mosaic
because it barely brushed the surface of Spring's Preface!
(my, how we welcome those bashful buds that begin to stir in greenhouses and grocery-stores!)
The girth of earth is brown with mud and mirth of winter’s
waning tide
A modest panoramic wake of mute and matted countryside
The joy of expectation poised on thatched patchwork of bronze
and brass
Waits at a gate with baited breath for innocence of soft
green grass
The dark wind wails and waves a wand of pussy-willow
pillowed fronds
Where rusty reeds like ragamuffins shiver in ditches and
ponds
The bashful bud begins to stir beneath the whisper of a
dream
And hope makes dreamers of us all where winter has run
out of steam
Anticipation is a gift that keeps the weight of dread at bay
March grants to weathered hearts a lift where blue and gold duels with gray
The distance between here and there excites and invites us to dance
Upon a welcome mat where morning wears the air of first romance
The saucy robins reappears and cheers us with its lusty trill
The kiss of sun is warm and charms the chill of storm to giddy thrill
The pitter-pat of rain-drop splat is like laughter or music-notes
Because we know within its flow a wonder-world of flowers floats
Those white decoys that March deploys is but Jack Frost's noisy retreat
A blust'ring bit of fluff-bluff as gruff ruffians fall to defeat
Where canvases of color throb beneath the somber aftermath
Of gales, as violet-gilded trails emerge to purge death from earth's path
And picnic-baskets find frayed blankets on brook-banks, in meadow-rooms
Ah March, your stiff-starched orderlies sweep out the world with woolly brooms
On battlefields where winter yields but not without one last fierce fling
Ah March, you are the age-old star that leads us from winter to spring
© Janet Martin
