Spring Sonnet Poem by C Richard Miles

A mild May morning, yet I still seem down,
Dulled by the weary world with all its woes
Since through the shimmering haze, this tawdry town
Pulls pleasure from my soul, so gladness goes
And is replaced by lethargy, that longs
To drive me back to bed, depressed and blue
While Hackney's blackbirds stir me with their songs
To sing that spring is making all things new
And vernal flowers press me to set my foot
Upon a more creative course, the blight
Of boredom seems to slam my dreams' door shut
And closes windows open to life's light
But surely sunshine's better far than rain
That drowns delight and stultifies my brain.