Words of Spring

The tumbling treadwoods are locked in their eyes
Their branches have nimbly grown sprite and entwine,
Purple and green buds of earth juice to the skies,
They play as warm hands to the woods and their vine,
The morning dew laughing from leaf-tip to trough;
The choice cabernet of her nature and heart
And, O! What a perfectly picked wine!

Fluffy red clouds sprout from stem-still to stick
When the clouds from the blue stay due course;
She smiles nearby stars in their orbit and flick
'Round the beetles and chipmunks without force
Her arms stretch in stream-swims around all
Embraces are warm and eternal, thrust rushing
The pulsing red beat overflows from the source!



Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 473 times
Written on 2009-02-25 at 05:47

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You are so clever Michael, this is a truly uplifting poem on nature in her wonders of spring. Thank you for reminding me of her smile, Tai x
2009-02-25


Kathy Lockhart
your writing is so rich and full. i really enjoyed this piece. :) kathy
2009-02-25