Officially, Spring is less than three weeks away, but as nasty as winter has been these last few days (with windchills into the -50 C (-60 F) degrees across the Canadian prairies), it's pretty hard to believe that there's any such thing as Spring out there in the distance. So today I feel the need for a Spring fix -- and am recycling pictures from my neighbourhood and yard, along with a poem I wrote for my best friend's birthday a few years back. Think warm thoughts!
Spring will
come
along
daffodil paths,
tuck herself
under tulip
and
blossoming bough.
She will
come
just as sure
as leaf and bud
wait beneath
the snow.
In dreams,
we see her now.
Spring will
roll
across leaf
and lawn,
parading her
petals
underfoot
and overhead.
She will
come
in pastels
and shimmering whites,
and delicate
hues
over
everything spread.
Spring will
wake
every seed
and bulb;
stretch her
limbs, and stand
in glory, in
her power.
She will
come!
Though
winter hides her lushness for a time,
she’ll
return
to keep
primrose promises
at her self-appointed
hour.
Spring is
but a memory at the moment.
her
creativity, the vaguest dream.
When faced
with the endless freeze of winter,
Spring remembrance
is a trickle, not a stream.
But spring
will stream
and gush and
flourish!
She’ll show
her colours
in proud
display.
She will
come!
But until
she does
we revisit
these memories
to keep
winter blues away.
Spring will
come!
And we will
greet her with joy!
Spring WILL
come!
