by Ian R Thorpe
Thursday, January 15, 2004
Pale winter sun lingers, lengthening each day,
On twig and branch new buds begin to swell.
Songbirds give voice, each striving to excel,
Seed senses change in its deep bed of cold clay,
Earth goddess weaves her magic to propel
Reborn cycle of her womb along its way
Life returns in every tree’s slow thought,
In pond and stream the dance begins again
Spring flowers show, their purpose to proclaim
A new season comes; winter’s reign is short
And darkness no longer exercises any claim;
Green growth dispels grey moods it brought.
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