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!
