Treasure Island

Christian Lacdael

(Bury St. Edmunds, England)

Spring mornings


Woken by earlier born sun,
Chills harmless as nettles while young,
There's frost but winter's on the run,
Colour nigh seems it don't belong,
On battle worn ground life will win,
Mother nature is now yawning,
Memories bind to breaths we breathe in,
The promise of a spring morning,
Growth sprouts from the canvas wiped clean,
Woods ready for chaos filled scenes,
Life's waiting in dashes of green,
Blessings are spoken by May queens,
A mist veils the earnest beauty,
We see clear once the sun clips trees,
Fauna want for patience like we,
These months forever play the tease.

Submitted: Tuesday, July 16, 2013
Edited: Wednesday, July 17, 2013
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