Fresh Morning Leaves Poem by Lee Janes

Fresh morning leaves droop over branches,
As light dances with duet mood in the flickering blue;
Reflecting, saying ‘hi', as my eyes reply with a squint.
Birds in shadow with divine annoyance, chatter wild scenes
Not asked for, heard through the night.
Apollo lovingly embraces all I see
Motherly caressing, hugging fatherly,
Everything in view; turning his soft
Impacts into wondrous colour that reality
Deems too true. Yet none, I say,
Sing; produce your face, a pure as snow white
Face; lips blushing berry red with
Summers tender kiss and her gentle growth.
Humming a scent that velvet violets, surrounded
By golden daffodils, in which, a lone
Bee sups his ambrosia; swaying to and fro,
This way and that with a mysterious power drawn;
To his home, dropping a honey so sweet, sipped
And tasted, creates no sense if sense
Could ever your skin copy. Low waves,
Breathed from energetic wings, waft
Perfume upward, towards the heavens,
Towards it travels and down they look, all,
An elegant goddess, elegant as earth's season
Giving spring, birth of labouring waters
From winters devilish bite; they do gaze
And notice undoubtedly your dazzling sheen.
Hungrily grasping, as turtle-doves swoop
To gather her nest, before the break of storm.
Upon this soft green grass I pray, you lay
With me; humbly offered; while
Bellowing clouds creep forever near,
Thirsting for you to be returned to
Your throne, imbedded between the stars.
To lift you up on cupped hands
And to sleep dreamingly, residing you go.