Quiescent
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The quiescent oaks shiver in the cold
Their fugacious leaves blown away in the breeze
February will you bring me closer to spring bold
If anyway possible would you please
Now the susurration of winter's wind
So different from sighing of the pines
How I long for angular sun's warmth, my friend
For time in the sun, how I have pined
There's pale gray wool flung across the sky
A cold white shawl draped upon the lawn
Before the sun rises to warm by and by
When sun illuminates the crack of dawn
Chilled daffodils tender shoots peek through the earth
Seeking the sun's early light and warm touch
Once more to refresh the bulbs' life with mirth
Invite early insects to tickle its trumpet and such
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2024
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