The Glimmering Hope of Spring
Tulips stand in startled indignation,
Encased in a quarter inch of sleet and snow
When yesterday, it seemed, was spring's elation,
In grim dismay, the daffodils bend low.
The lily pond affronted with ice-crusted bank;
The weeping willow leaves are tears of ice.
The grasses march along the path, stiff rank,
Frozen glitter, brittle cadence, spring's demise.
In contrast to last night's soft leaves, a prickle
Of frozen spears, pseudo winter's cold assault,
Should not surprise; we know April is fickle,
Hiding the darts of winter's armory vault.
What should appear at the eleventh hour,
But a beaming ally of the new, sweet spring,
Championing every herb and flower,
With warmth that bids the chilliness take wing.
Bright rays of sun demand,"Be gone, imposter.
The time of color and of warmth is here.
The newness and the growth that spring would foster,
Declares her crowning for another year."
©03/23/2011 Carol Morfitt