Spring Promise

The shortest month has come and gone, St David’s Day brings hope of Spring, But rain and floods bring misery To thousands forced to flee their homes. A shard of sunlight sweeps across The grass. A searchlight seeking out The yellow crocus, glowing bright Amidst the sparkling morning dew. And high above in swaying trees The rooks build their precarious nests. They clearly think that Spring is nigh, As do the blackthorn’s snowy flowers. And soon the golden daffodils Will spread their vernal cheerfulness Across a dark expectant land Awaiting warmth and sun-drenched days.