Saturday, March 20, 2010

Another old seasonal poem of mine..



Vernal Song

Melodic spring,
Youthful, unsullied, immaculate.
I’m counting bees in my garden.
Wisps of verdant pasture sway in the distance.
It’s a grand ball of the fae,
A dance of heaven and earth.

The lady next door sets a table of porcelain.
She delicately folds the kerchiefs and napkins.
Embroidered with violets and lilacs.
Then she sits and proposes a toast to the sunshine,
And the breeze,
Which sings a tune of new beginnings.

2 comments:

  1. I love your writing, and something about "counting bees" makes me joyous.

    ReplyDelete