Robins on the front lawn, waiting for a worm,
back from winters hideaway where days were mostly warm.
Shovel in the flowerbeds, blisters on my hands,
sparrows in my martin house, bare feet in the sand.
Henbit showing off its’ blooms, crabgrass getting high,
darn! , it’s time to mow again, dust and pollen make me cry!
Dark clouds racing ‘cross the sky blocking out the sun,
waiting for the “twister” that puts us on the run.
Tadpoles in the mud hole out by the pasture gate,
I wonder in amazement how they change from day to day.
Life abounds, surrounds us, refreshed or born anew
that’s springtime in Oklahoma, I love it still, Don’t you?
Once again, george, I loved this one. Your descriptions take me there. Colin J...
A wonderful poem, George. I write poems for John McCornack in Yukon, Oklahoma. I'm from Washington state but have been through your state and visited Mr. McCornack last summer. I write lots of poems about red dirt roads in Oklahoma. You have a wonderful talent. Marilyn
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Only the lucky people get to spend Springtime in Oklahoma. Great piece of writing. You can Google - (John McCornack Oklahoma) and come up with some of my material which supports your Poem.