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Tenderness of Spring
"The first blooms of spring always make my heart sing." Susan Brown
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Spring has Flora dressing the fields in flowers;
rising to the call of blooming season,
the bloom seamstress reweaves in sets of hours,
the pastoral plains in vernal elation.
Gladdened by the tenderness of spring,
songbirds show their mirth in a song's form;
these winged beings in joyful return, sing
for the exit of Winter in its storm.
The blooms' kaleidoscope in an array
as a painting on the canvas of earth;
through the colorized domain, petals spray
their joint scents to match the clime's warmth's rebirth.
The light wind's soft voice stirs the blooms awake
from slumber under winter's lengthy spell.
The event of the stream's flow, spring did make,
the flowing string freed from the ice's shell.
The sun is sharp to share beams on the land,
who has shed its white coat for a green one,
the dance of flowers in their colors grand,
fix the field to be neat for the eyes' fun.
Each bee buzzes in flight from bloom to bloom
to gather nectars without stumbling blocks
from Boreas' breath, butterflies have room
to air-ballet like sprites 'neath the trees' locks.
Ah, springtime! My spirit blossoms!
Copyright ©
Sara Etgen-Baker
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