#8
Spring
A
sense of warmth is tapping at the door;
And hope, a feeling out from distant lore
Or so it seems clears the deep refrain!
Emerging youth: a dormant lea awakes.
The raging colour, singing loud, partakes
In annual birth spring is born again!
A zest anew for nascent life
Begins in floral train:
Carriage one: a snowdropp
thrill;
Carriage two: the crocus;
Number
three, a daffodil dancing,
Drawing focus as she would,
Attention seeker!
How I love our spring:
The bold and sleeker feel I get,
An inner glow, a ring!
Ive paid the winters chilly debt, so
Now upon the wing!
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010