PRIMAVERA (A Spring romp!)

Spring you secretly prepare, 

while all seems dead and bare,

like the presence of the fairies, 

debated waifs of nature's golden hair,

look there the grass lies now prostrate, 

bleached and yellowed, dead, 

and yet found hiding underneath its rounded pate,

new shoots, new blades of green are bred.

And on the trees, small swellings still yet brown,

slowly in chameleon style change colour,

so to burst when dawns no longer frown

with leaden mists, and snow lies on the ground;

a wistful frond protrudes in warmth of sun,

and here a shining leaf decides to wave its fragile arms 

revealing so a flower

releasing perfumes and a petal shower,

transforming mud and earth into a carpet fair,

fit for the dainty feet of daisy's passing touch.

O spring how you awake our fond desires,

the softness of the fall of water on grey smooth rocks,

your gown so splendid, 

laced with stars of Celandine and Aconite,

then Bells of Blue ring in the forest glades

and Ladys Smock, and Dandelions join in, 

all form the pageant we've been waiting for

we dance, our spirits to the skies they soar.

Oh time of year we wish you welcome,

sing as loud a song as birds and bees they hum,

and Summer's sounds begun, 

remind us of the heat on sandy banks

where Buttercups and King Cups bathe their feet

their yellow sheen all gleaming

the gold of earth's fresh blooming,

carry us away on scents of these

and we in paradise will feel at ease.

Bring on the rains in Winter's thaw 

and brush this earth with green, 

like sensual fire to lick and touch each tiny bloom,

your magic wand to stir awake

the sensitive delicate petals unfold,

their crinkled life stretched smooth as silk,

their shine reflecting dashing streams, 

those rumbling music waterways,

that pound the rocks and spray bright 

rainbows in the days new sun, now warm.

Those burns and becks resounding

here and there, and in this place where I now sit,

remind me of another sight, 

the farmers coming out with ploughs,

to plant the seed of other springing fruits,

the corn, the old potatoes, leeks and beans,

each placed so neatly by the hand of man,

to feed us through the year,

and give our minds a sea of colour, ever changing

as seasons come and go and then we know

we live, we live, we live and then we have to go,

in Autumn's covers, leaves, 

and then comes snow again

the ever moving circle of life's wheel.