by Kristina Woodhill
steals the runway
casually changing gowns
in front of April's gasping crowd,
all winter, agape
at her brazen rusty gold,
each succulent leaf hammered
on December's stone cold anvil
each stem heavy laden,
off-setting winter's pearls;
warmer thoughts tickle dreams,
worms wriggle deeply in their beds;
chartreuse green now nibbles
lips of yawning rusty gold,
spreading its welcome grin,
a time lapse sunrise
pulling at Apollo's reins, straining
just ahead of running
bared feet, laughing children,
and sand castle days
Posted on 04/01/2010
Copyright © 2023 Kristina Woodhill
|Member Comments on this Poem|
|Posted by Gregory O'Neill on 04/01/10 at 07:43 PM|
This is delightful! Your garden of flowers is also a garden of thoughts and dreams, and the thoughts seem to grow as freely as the flowers, and the dreams are as beautiful. Thanks.
|Posted by George Hoerner on 04/02/10 at 01:39 AM|
Oh yes, the imagination does always reign supreme. And bare feet are always a sign that spring is chasing them through the sand. Good write lady.
|Posted by Joan Serratelli on 04/02/10 at 04:20 PM|
I love the vibrant images here. Spring has definitely sprung and I love it! I sat outside and smiled. It's a georgeous day. My kids went to the beach. My granddaughter picked flowers and insisted that i put them in my hair. It's a glorious time of the year! Wonderful write, as always!
|Posted by Tom Goss on 04/02/10 at 09:26 PM|
Delightfully immersive! We just procured more plants for our garden, including many succulents - this poem expresses the excitment we are feeling today. ;)
|Posted by Max Bouillet on 05/27/10 at 12:53 PM|
You use words like a paint brush. You skillfully create each natural image in great detail in the readers' mind. Thank you for this poetic picture.