Springtime
Where are you my sweet spring time,
I’m heart sink waiting for thee, oh beloved
Of all the seasons, thou ‘art my favorite,
For yours is the very breathe of life itself,
The Mystic Rose grows within your warmth,
Nourished by the gentle breezes that you
Bring forth, a tender blossom of sacred beauty,
A timeless wild flower of single elegance.
It sleeps this brilliant Tiffany bulb, curled up
Tightly within its raw soil bedding dreaming,
Oh thee, oh sweet springtime, but frozen
She remains in a status freeze, waiting for
A soft whispering from nature
She comes be at the ready, child of the sun.
Beneath winters icy chill, lays fields of dreaming
Blossoms, here the verities of the pallet array
Dips into the rainbows stratospheres, melting
Within the earth below, to create the beautiful
Bouquet that spring will draw forth.
Nay the white hands of winter, smack harshly
Against my window panes of sorrow,
Yet within my heart is hope of the tomorrow,
And the glorious joy to come, with the on set
Of the promises of spring.
The burning logs of holiday cheer have lost
Their romantic luster, the sleds sharp blades
Are placed aside, it’s just too cold outside for
Laughter’s enchantment to take hold.
The shovels of white diamonds fields that
Once glistened so magically now remain
Dual and tarnished, just a chores aimless
Task of back aching pain to be done.
I’m waiting for the breathless color burst,
To feel the warmth of the sun against my
White skin of palest ivory, and to hear the
Street children at play once more, outside
My prison door.
For here I’m still looking out my window,
At a wintery wonderland of ice and snow,
Waiting for the spring, tired and weary of
The splendor of white lace, and snowflakes.
Where are you my sweet spring time,
I’m heart sink waiting for thee, oh beloved
Of all the seasons, thou ‘art my favorite,
For yours is the very breathe of life itself,
The Mystic Rose grows within your warmth,
Nourished by the gentle breezes that you
Bring forth, a tender blossom of sacred beauty,
A timeless wild flower of single elegance.
BY: CHERYL ANNA DUNN
Dedicated and inspired by My Sister Poet Mystic Rose
Copyright © Cherl Dunn | Year Posted 2015
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