In the frozen grip of winter's chaperone,
Cinderella gets walzted in like a dirty faced hussy.
As light and darkness stand side by side
in a battle for her supremacy.
Godmother has the ground vermin rousted up
from their hidden abodes.
Busy fashioning her apparels and pearly things.
But kissing in their modes.
Dreams that have lied dormant promise the moon,
meets with sunbeams fresh advances, with golden threads of dress-up in swoon.
New pickup lines and peer reviews
to peak at her pinnacle lines.
Fresh new light clings to the hem of misty morn,
sown at her delicate feat, like diadems.
Promised in consecrated dew-drops newly born.
The fowl caress the air in synchronized swim,
in salvos of savoir faire,
bannering rehearsal,
the reversal of Death's Nadir.
Much work to do in presenting.
Gonna have a good show.
Godmother tends to her proper dress.
Tries to tone down her exude of amoress.
Winter looks tacitly, concerned-
from the cold distance,
but is lit up by the way Spring looks back
in her gratitudes,
when she turns,
bows and curtseys at her complicit,
Majesty.
the spring equinox
brings warmer and longer days ~
bleak landscape reborn
Written 25th February 2021
5/7/5
Spring - Traditional Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by Malabika Ray Choudhury.
today brings much change
the birds hail Spring's arrival
Winter relinquish'd
The Vernal Equinox
Welcome to the vernal equinox,
a time to move hour forward all our clocks.
Regrowth, rejuvenation and rebirth,
A zest for life and lust for all its worth.
As warm winds kiss away the cold and freeze,
the sap is rising in the Maple trees.
A lover pulls you softly to his lips,
and springtime permeates within your hips.
The smell of flowers mixes with the rain,
our nature’s aphrodisiac to tame.
The world becomes a rainbow opalescent,
with marigolds and lilac ever present.
Bare trees arrayed in bright pastels and such.
A longing for outside lures very much.
Babes are born on spindly legs to stand,
to graze from grasses green across the land.
Luscious springtime of the wondrous world,
a season when God’s beauty is unfurled.
The Vernal Equinox
By Franklin Price
3/24/2016
The Vernal Equinox has passed
Went by four days ago
The sun has traveled halfway south
Towards Summer don't you know
The temperature is climbing
The flowers are in bloom
The leaves returning to the trees
To give the shade more room
Pink, red and white the leaves of trees
Temporarily are in view
Then turn to green to change the scene
And refresh the world anew
Wildlife is appearing
Birds coming home to nest
Have to get the feeders out
To view them at their best
We know that Spring's established
When the hummingbirds appear
Those living ornithopters
Return again from year to year
So much happens in the Spring
Telling all would take a book
To enjoy the wonders of it
Go outside and take a look
Spring begins as a spring, the roads shining wet, the earth desultory floats the water as
the lawns are pricking green welcoming the Spring. At dawn the birds chatter with delight
at the worms' awful plight while commuters mutter imprecations to one and all as if
weather lore will do for us all, until they remember the Easter holiday that still seems so
far off as the weather seems to be spoiling our lot.
Snow shovels the warm dry sunny weather we had for over a week far away as it reminds
us of its power to be bloody awkward of its own accord.
In Spring we all fancy a smile that is not wry and weather to warm our bodies and souls
after a grotty winter. Let us Hope!
vernal equinox (Haiku)
vernal equinox
starts on the first day of Spring
on twentieth March.
Dr Ko Ko Thein
Salt Lake City
Asterisms flicker
one sleek obsidian night;
solstice slips away
Snowdrop shoots nosing
petals into bitter winds;
first whispers of spring
Sparkling laughter runs
among the pebbles and reeds;
melt-water music
Bright blue, wet green days
wash away winters lather;
vernal equinox.
you can sense it
smell it, see it
clear, clean, cloudless days
earth's quickening
the energy, bursting energy
in pale shades
soft new shades
emerge from the ground
with boundless conviction
spring whispers to them
run, run to the sun
end winter's rule
tender tendrils grow
holding hands, dancing
in the woodlands
marsh and thicket