All was quiet but for the cawing of the sober crows,
No gentle background of birdsong was heard.
All was grey and still in the fields and the woods.
The mice slept in their burrows; the sap waited in the roots.
Then one day, the word was whispered along.
the sun brought with it a finger of warmth, and touched the trees
The apricot, the cherry, then the apples in order.
It touched the soil, where the grasses and dandelions stirred.
Snowdrops peeked up and said
Sound the alert!
All hands on deck!
Out of the ground, everyone!
Suddenly the air was full of petals, the garden plot crawling with worms,
A chirping, warbling symphony calls in the bushed-out trees.
Here it is!
To catch the Poetry bus this week just leave me a comment and I'll get your link onto the sidebar Monday afternoon (sorry, no line breaks there).
Friday comes round again.
7 hours ago