Purple's Platitudes

nothing but words …


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.



26 March, 2014 - Posted by | Poetry | ,

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: