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Click hereDaylight Savings Comes Early
Would a crocus bloom
because man sees the sun
before the moon sets? Tulips
rest, hyacinths slumber
deep, snow lies heavy.
The garden sleeps until
it's time. Expectant
cows low with the first
pangs of laboured birth,
woke with the sun beams
through dusty windows
that press welcome heat
to spring's newborn eyes.
The buds nod their heads
to a slower rhythm
of birdsong still unsung,
nests not feathered. Breath
held, frost suspended, we wait
for flocks and the wind
to fly over and break the ice
that holds the lake captive.
copyright 2007.08.March
Did I like it - no
Is it trite - no
Shows real evidence of craft
"The buds nod their heads
to a slower rhythm
of birdsong still unsung,"
but i don't need to tell you that
Sorry for the delay
i love the imagery with this poem. i like how you've reworked some of the wording. well done!
"The garden sleeps until
it's time."
Here is one time where either works! ;)
I first saw crocuses last week, but they were quickly buried in a freak snow storm. Wonderful imagery, Carrie. Now we both can wait for the sun. It comes three weeks earlier this year.
A good piece of poetry. I like the Spring imagery and the metaphor in the last stanza closes the poem well.
Am not sure about the lengths of some of your lines, in particular the latter half of the second stanza. It made me a little breathless and I couldn't take in the images because of the pace it created.
Still, good effort.
Mentioned in today's new poem reviews.