Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …

nap

26 March 2014

 

 

woke up to Winter’s defiant last breath,

absolute whitening, with little depth.

March winds, true to form, howl in their fury,

no plea bargain, no favor to curry.

The wind clears the sky, the sun tries its best,

beaming its warmth at Winter’s stubbornness.

Even the trees shake off unwelcome white,

and wriggle green with such childish delight.

Someone is cranky, it’s time for a nap,

six months or so, and then you may come back.

And mothering Spring sings a lullaby,

as off to slumber Winter cries and sighs.

His tears become streams and rain on the earth,

all hearts rejoice at the joyful new birth.

 

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26 March, 2014 - Posted by | Poetry | ,

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