Friday, March 06, 2009


Already, golden goodness starts to radiate
upon the crusty banks of gritty residue—
as cheerful chirping makes the morning chill abate
secreted dreams of freedom resurrect anew.

Exploding fiercely from the damply dormant sod
tenacious tendrils teeming with ambitious grasp
attempt to overcome the overwrought façade
whose insubstantial surfaces are hard to clasp,

while water reawakened from a crystal sleep
begins to stir lethargically and leave it’s bed
perennial pangs of passion that run so deep
revive what was reserved, but refuses to be dead.


Anonymous said...

...And such is the miracle of spring. Beautiful poem. Thanks for creating and sharing!

Peace, Light and Love to you and yours,


rch said...

thanks cord, I can't wait for summer. Peace to you as well,


Anonymous said...

I'll settle for the spring you so beautifully describe! :)

rch said...

thanks Shirley