Your small, silken ears savor spring’s strong song
Unfurled on the mast of a barked synapse
Of miniature ships in a still throng
Your petals are sails after winter’s lapse
Life stirs and throbs and stretches its fresh limbs
You gave sleep its soporific season
Empty and cold, the eternal cup brims
Once again with wine, which enchants reason
Study an almond for a spring hour
Ask: what sort of eye weeps a wooden tear?
Frost can bite branch and root, but strange power
Waits in them both, to exhale wild new air
A blossom is a word a tree’s tongue speaks
Joining spring’s new poem is what it seeks
About the Creator
D. J. Reddall
I write because my time is limited and my imagination is not.
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Very well written. Keep up the good work!
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Compelling and original writing
Creative use of language & vocab
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Comments (7)
That final quatrain was such a showstopper! Such beautiful lines, D.J.! I daresay Van Gogh would approve!
"Ask: what sort of eye weeps a wooden tear?" Oooo, that was deep. Loved your poem so much!
Ohh you nailed this. I feel so refreshed reading this
This is gorgeous. Love this line "A blossom is a word a tree’s tongue speaks," also the one about crying wooden tears.
Oh, that's so beautifully uplifting. what a great read.
This is so sweet and refreshing, like taking a step outside—absolutely has me looking forward to spring!!
"barked synapse" & "Study an almond for a spring hour, Ask: what sort of eye weeps a wooden tear?" stood out the most. Wonderfully refreshing poem!