Started on 09 Mar 201419 poems
With cruel blossom.
As the wind
And the woods
Snowdrop, tulip, daffodil and crocus.
Your colours coax dull lenses to focus.
Rain often drenched
The Chestnut aches,
holding up his heavy candelabras
in the rain.
A hoary old man, winter lingers, until
he grows tired and relents, he gives way
To a sudden
The garden is grinning with daffodils.
Yellow winks, stealth-gleams,
from pulled-tight green
A strait-jacketed choir of daffodils.
All claustrophobic sopranos.
Are made hysterical by a
I hug an unruly bunch of excitable young daffodils.
Squeaking and giggling in nervous wind
She has daffodils clutched
like a hugful of flames -
torching her petroleum smile.
She has an armful of daffodils
cradled like a baby
made of sunshine.
When A Rose is grown
It is A wonderful thing
It brings life and Love
To the garden of earth
Spring is too beautiful to ignore
she commands my rapt attention
It was summer's eve when I saw
A star that I spied across a sky
I named a star after her
Let forth the spring flowers
That the rose that's grown,
Be a symbolic sign of Lovers
each day grows longer,
garlands of tree buds blooming,
Visions aspects sculptured years,
Of memories, instructions seared,
From views of growth
A guttural green sound in the wrecked garden.
Cough of spring earth
clearing its croaked winter
Honeyed beams of sunlight sing
with a precious petalled touch,
ushering me into Spring,
Within my gardens soul abounds,
A spirit stirring neath the ground,
Aroused by secret depths