Timed.
Winter's knife now lying buried
in burgeoning earth
means ice retreats as birdless
branch swells leafed and ready.
Music of life unsettles the breast
of month-resting nature
for now timed faces express daily
need for change to greener dress.
Sodden ground tires of trying
to create new movement
while soil ferments in mud pools
making underness unable to dry.
Yet season's push ever battles
as yellow trumpet attempts
cold openings thus winter relents
so Spring can begin her floral task.
-
Author:
Fay Slimm. (
Offline) - Published: March 12th, 2018 04:13
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 97
- Users favorite of this poem: Laura🌻
Offline)
Comments6
An awesome write,
my dear Fay!
The imagery in your poem
is immense! It conjures up
a beautiful image of Spring!
We are definitely ready for
Spring to make its debut!
~Laura~
Thank you Laura - yes Spring is taking its time here but will no doubt make it's entrance on central stage soon. Lovely to get your thoughts after reading the little tribute to early flowers.
I love this and "her need to change to a greener dress"........... very beautiful Fay!
Ah - - the imagery almost writes itself when Spring is viewed as staging a battle with retreating Winter - thank you for the welcome comment dear Lorna.
I'm with you there Fay - Spring has a peace about it that is close to perfect (I mean we don't have to "work" at it)........ if we ever get to spring that is.........
Very descriptive piece. Spring is a magical season. I enjoyed ready this.
Thank you Ivory both for the visit and for the comment and so pleased you enjoyed the tribute to Spring's green magic appearing despite Winter's last fling.
Magic write for a magic season.
Chimeric indeed is the change from naked to floral display Michael - - loads of thanks for the read and the comment.
An absolutely beautiful poem, Fay! I wish Spring would come and begin her "floral task" (great words!) where I live. Loved it from beginning to end!
Ah dear Christina - -so good to find your comment after reading my little tribute to Spring's fight with Winter so the task of painting with colour can begin once again. Thank you for the visit and for your lovely comment.
Super write Fay, those yellow trumpets are blowing in our garden.
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