Signs of Spring
Jays and crows wing carelessly
over towering, barren canopy
as bluebirds and robins flutter
purposefully amongst bushes
whose branches have yet to yield green -
yet the fragrance of spring,
granted not Tulip trees nor Dogwood blossoms,
is here in the earthiness of damp dirt
and rotted leaves baking in afternoon's sun.
Ash and Oak still showcase abstract
patterns of bizarre, twisted limbs
but scampering squirrels
delight the eye as we wait for leaf and bud.
Perhaps my favorite is a softened palette
watercoloring evening's sky
as ducks and geese quarrel and forage,
prepare for new life
while I, t-shirt clad, watch my daughter
ride pony over hill and field
as sunset winks, promises curfew
will be loosened a bit each day.
by Margaret Bednar, March 21, 2014
This is linked to Imaginary Garden of Real Toads "Camped Out in the Garden" challenge. Our host, Herotomost gave us three choices and I may have stretched the limit as mine is NOT about camping but I did try and rise to the "Lewis and Clark" option.
Camping was the only way my parents travelled - I remember staying at a motel (not hotel) once when it down-poured - otherwise we camped. The smell of the moldy canvas tent, the hard ground (no softened pads for us), the early morning rising so we could continue on the car journey that never ended (they traveled as far as they could go in one week). I remember wishing we could stay and play, swim, etc., but that was never allowed.
I love my hotels, my down comforters, clean bathrooms, pools, breakfasts. That's my kind of "roughing it" :)
13 comments:
This has such a beautiful 'feel' to it.
Such a lyrical description of springtime - it must feel so good to be able to dress for warmer weather.
I'm with you when it comes to 'roughing it.' My body doesn't like hard, bumpy surfaces, never did. Lovely poetry, notes are also beautifully done.
So beautiful.......photos and the mood of the poem. Sounds like your parents and I dragged our kids on the same kind of camping trips! hee hee. We made a total circuit of most of the provincial campgrounds in a week! Give or take.
I don't think even our Hero (to most) can throw you out of the Garden for this poem. It's lovely, and wearing a t-shirt while watching your daughter ride her pony must be blissful.
My parents were the rough-and-tumble kind of campers when the first three of us were young. When our young brother came along many years later, they had graduated to a camper van.
K
What a beautiful poem, Margaret, and I just love the first photo here.
Have a wonderful weekend!
Wow, that was so springy and beautiful that my allergies are acting up...lol. That was a very vibrant spring portrait and since I am the king of my challenge, I will deem it perfect, especially when the camping thing is as sore a subject as it is. Great writing, loved it.
This is delightful.
"whose branches have yet to yield green"
amongst the many phrases that taste like sweet liqeur to be savoured.
That last stanza touches my heart!
Lovely
"the fragrance of spring,
granted not Tulip trees nor Dogwood blossoms,
is here in the earthiness of damp dirt"
YES! And as the day lengthens, I too feel as though a curfew has been lifted. This poem lifts my spirits and details my perceptions. I wish I had written it!
Such a personal, beautiful poem. I especially love the last stanza.
Such a beautiful portrait of spring's awakening...for so many it can't come soon enough
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