In the Garden

Thinking about spring
I find it all described with words an old man would use
The cool crisp air mixing softly with the early morning mist
Each petal of the paperwhite daffodil
Contrasts solid and hard with it’s yellow cousin
Here and there a bumble bee prowls
Tiny droplets of pollen and dew cling to her sides
Even as busy buzzing wings brush back the careless hand
Distracted by the beauty of the rising sun

Echoing Lament

She said she hears the night birds call
But when I listened I could not hear them
It was during the last breath of summer
Blowing the first leaves of fall
Tired eyes were looking to the west
Into the setting of the sun
Where withered limbs bare of fruit
Sway in a dry September wind
Forgetful of the spring
Naked she sings in the moonlight
She dances beneath the stars
Even as my heart yearns
Desperate to hear her song
The echo of the night birds
Calling from afar
The sun is setting
Life flows on

A Passing Thought

I sat and watched a red faint wisp darting amongst the garden rose
I had never seen here before such a gallant dragonfly dressed so well in scarlet robes
I wonder what ill omen does he bring
Complacent in my thoughts to leave the decision to chance and eternal spring
For neither death or sickness care
From whence such beauty may have flown
I shall in my innocence not despair
And wait to see what more I may find Here along this gardens path