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Spring — a life anew

Prodding rays of warming glow,
sunshine.
Crusted ice and snow
slowly melting into trickling drops. 
First to bloom
a crocus blue, a tulip tries to rise.

How long the wait
and freezing rain
chilled the weary bones.
Heat up and boil you spring sunshine
the blue bell waits no more.
A snowdrop jingles — a bird builds a twiggy nest

Green grass fingers through the dirt
so tender shoots they are.
A blanket freshly sewn
tickling worms in undergrowth.
Kentucky, blue and weed.

Blossoms on the cherry tree
crown in glory tender flush.
A petal pure; a hue of pink.
Thank God you’re here to see the glow
of apple pear and lilac tree.


Summer — winter’s spouse she leaves

Stop kissing my skin with such heat.
Stop wetting my brow with such sweat.
Stop cursing the sky with such blue.
Stop scenting the air with such lush.

How long have I waited for you to return
by window and doorway I stood.
Through autumn at dusk and cold winter at night.
In spring you tormented my mind.

Stop burning my skin deadly long rays.
Stop wilting my hair with your heat.
Stop making the nights so unbearably hot.
Stop keeping the breeze for yourself.

What joy was it when you left so quick?
That chill rode in on a prickling frost.
You tease me again on September days
with reds and brown and yellows.

Stop and come back quick! you hear.
Stop leaving every year.
Stop and kiss my skin again with freckles on your lip.
Stop spinning round the earth and give it all to me.













Autumn — death makes things regrow

A leaf it flutters to the ground
still green but given way.
To something knocks but once a year
the frost that kills each fall.

The crunch of feet on frozen ground
of eyes drink up the beauty.
Of orange leaves and reds and browns
and yellows in a mound.

The rake comes out and gathers all
heaps and giggles — hot cocoa.
The scent of rotted wet and mould
breathe deep and bottle up.

Autumn is the death you see
once green and grown above.
We dread it knocking on the door 
yet rush to play without.

Once Autumn leaves the doors we lock
to keep the cold at bay.
At night we light a light inside,
strike match to hearth and hob.


Winter
Gosh it’s cold — my breath it speaks
and frost clings to my lashes.
I blink the snow is blinding me
Yet out I go to see.

My boots are cozy warm to tread, my toque, my scarf and mitts.
I trample over ice and snow; my prints I leave behind.
Cold finds a crack and shivers me.
My spine it bends my neck down low.


Gosh it’s beauty dazzles me — a snowflake tumbles down.
so dainty — pretty —  cut from glass made up in clouds and sky.
I kiss it softly with my lip .
It melts on skin and is just for me.
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