March Time
A chill is in the wind
icy cold chagrin
blowing wild, restless, free
shivering in the pine trees.
Daffodils perk up without fear
spears of green cheer
to be followed with a spring star
yellow friendship from the heart.
Crocus glows in purple, yellowed blooms
beneath the brilliance of a full moon
and now time to jump ahead
the old clocks awakening the dead.
On the outer edge of time
comes the tulips feathered and refined
as we march into spring
grateful for the end of that winter thing.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment