I wrote this a few years ago on an April Sunday morning. Please forgive the repost but it somehow struck a chord today.
Daffodils bursting butter yellow
From a warming poltice
Of last years leaves
A cross cut lawn
In ancient tartan
Kelley and lincoln green
Forsythia fireworks
A sunburst
Igniting the split rail fence
Dove grey sky
With lady rain misting
A gossamer veil
My spade rests
Waiting patiently
Against the dormant locust
I am content to watch and sigh
This soft warm moment
Painted ethereally
For me alone
Poetry by josephus
Read 705 times
Written on 2017-04-16 at 15:50
Save as a bookmark (requires login)
Write a comment (requires login)
Send as email (requires login)
Print text
Sunday Morning
Through a Window on a Sunday MorningDaffodils bursting butter yellow
From a warming poltice
Of last years leaves
A cross cut lawn
In ancient tartan
Kelley and lincoln green
Forsythia fireworks
A sunburst
Igniting the split rail fence
Dove grey sky
With lady rain misting
A gossamer veil
My spade rests
Waiting patiently
Against the dormant locust
I am content to watch and sigh
This soft warm moment
Painted ethereally
For me alone
Poetry by josephus
Read 705 times
Written on 2017-04-16 at 15:50
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
|
Lawrence Beck |
|
Nancy Sikora |
|
shells |
