Out of the hard dark earth of
Winter,
out of the Mother of Spring,
crowning crocuses push through
the last snow.

Comes the sweet curly-headed
hyacinth,
the boisterous trumpets of daffodils,
the red-lipped smile of tulips,
and the unruly forsythia
like shattered sun, flails its rays.

Violets poke through blankets
of shade
and dandelions -- the peasants
of the fields --
multiply upon the green.

Now, white surprise of dogwood,
elegant flash of redbud,
lilting lilies, showy magnolias,
and lilacs -- pillows of mother's
ample breast --
press to complete
the birth of Spring.

Gail adds, "This poem emerged as a metaphor for the blossoming of my own body in its 68th year."

Thanks to RealWorld Style
All content © Ninepatch Inc.
Ninepatch Inc. is a non-profit corporation 1, 2, 3,