A lone dove
Called for a mate
On this still very cold
April morning
Spring will come regardless
The hush of winter
Replaced by songs of longing
And love
Nature will stand again
In diaphanous gowns of Irish green
Deer will walk daintily
Over the brown of last year's leaves
Time will roll another inch in his bed
And the sun will weave its gold
On barren branches
-
Author:
Lorna (
Offline) - Published: August 15th, 2025 05:58
- Category: Nature
- Views: 1
Offline)
To be able to comment and rate this poem, you must be registered. Register here or if you are already registered, login here.