Buds burst from barefaced boughs
that sleep the death of winter days,
The clutch of ice still threatening
to stun their future blaze,
And people wrapped in something
warm bemoan the sunless skies
Not seeing life beneath the shroud
with beauty for their eyes.
For them, nothing has happened since
the burnished leaves fell down
And dressed the concrete pavements
in their gold and amber gown,
They only saw the sad thin twigs
lift inch thick snow on high
And small birds shiver, now unhid,
to feline passers by.
But nature has been busy where no
eye could ever see,
She snipped and cut and stripped
away the old dress of the tree
And in the searchlight of the sun
that holds small warmth of ray,
She is preparing awesome garb for
some grand opening day.
And suddenly it's Spring, and people
smile a fraction more,
Now daffodils caress the breeze
and snowdrops kiss the floor,
And buds burst into stunning life,
and bees begin their dance
And brides clutch close her tokens
as they take their one big chance.
Old eyes could tell complaining youth
when all the skies are grey
That nature isn't resting, she prepares
her bridal spray!
For nothing that the Lord God made
will ever merely die.
Death is the pause, before real
life bursts forth with rapturous cry.
Annette Keeble Martens.
© 2009 Annette Keeble
Martens
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