Primrose Promise Poem by Dean Bottomley

I saw a Primrose today, I doubt it saw me
As it peeped, coyly from amongst the long grass.
How can such hope and promise be held
In such a small shy flower?

It holds the yellow of the sun in its pale face
A promise of the warmth of spring and summer.
The cold is past, and nature now wakes
All her sleeping children.

I has the green of new life in its silky leaves;
Waking, stretching, reaching skyward towards the sun.
New life is here, good times will follow.
It lifts the down cast soul