Waiting For Spring Poem by David Wood
Waiting For Spring
Winter, in all its cold damp airs,
Its hard stiff frozen ground.
Of short days and long nights,
And those mushed wet leaves
Trampled underfoot.
How can anything survive in this
Cold earth?
But, waking slowly from their
Death like rest, green fingers start
Poking through the hard ground.
Green fingers waking from a long
Sleep slowly pointing skywards
Where later drooping white petals
Shyly open, as if apologising for
The long delay from last February.
They tentatively open in the rawness
Of winter. Natures hope of a new world.
this poem is testment for all the people who want winter over Bravo!
Quite true, David. "If winter comes, can spring be far behind? ""….. Let us wait for the spring.. Full five*****
Beautifully expressed thoughts on the miracle of spring rebirth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/30/2024 4:21:44 AM # 1.0.0.1119
I wish I could see some green poking up, but here all we have is snow falling down! Nice poem.