The trees are coming into leaf;
the sap is pressing through the wood.
Violets, suspending disbelief
in spring, reveal now one by one
flowers of self-defining hue;
while butterflies with purple sheen
on flimsy wings try out the sun;
the sky's a half-forgotten blue.
Brash celandine invades the beds,
covers brown earth with green and gold;
bold daisies dare to show their heads.
The grass puts on a different green
and grows apace - I knew it would
(when was it mowed last? I forget)
and tangled branches really should
be pruned, but I've not got the heart
to execute or amputate;
in this profusion, who'd be so cold?
Though some day soon I'll have to start
(my neighbours think I've left it late)
I won't rush in and then regret -
Long live the weeds and the wilderness yet.
Flowers of self defining hue....... Such a powerfull imagery! ! Being a lover of spring I can actually say I could see and smell its forthcoming in this write... Very nice... Bonnie
'While butterflies with purple sheen/ on flimsy wing try out the sun' is simply beautiful. This is a rainbow of a poem - magnificent imagery. S :)
I really like this one, Paul. Spring comes to England so differently than the spring I experience in the great American desert...I especially like the line, 'the sky's a half-forgotten blue.' This is a good description of the English skies I've seen from time to time, also those of New England, here in the U.S. I like the pondering you do here about getting the garden ready. Nice feel to this work. Raynette
This poem really describes the outcome of spring. i loved the comments in parathasis(sp?) , they give the poem a relaxed touch. The weeds (a bad thing to most) are still part of the lovely coming of spring. In order to accept Spring, we have to accept all the thing that come along with it. I love the poem! Kat, =)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
lovely Spring song. some very out of the box imagery. I love all the seasons, but Spring is very cheerful and uplifting like the poem.thanks10 Mamta