The Happy Children
Since fall, they’ve stayed where they had first been put
away from human view beneath the earth.
Through chill of winter, longing to take root,
they lie, dear tender babes, awaiting birth.
Snow melts into the ground and down comes rain.
The unborn infants hear the pattering
and feel the warmth when Sun, aroused again,
shines brightly forth to welcome sister Spring.
Their lovely colored heads all in a row
emerge by end of March from Mother’s womb.
How fleet the time each child then takes to grow.
How brief the span of each sweet Tulip’s bloom!
Each year reborn, they’re twofold. . . mourn them not.
More’s the merrier. . . they’re a happy lot!
April 6, 2012
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
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
