#springpoem

How delicious the frangerance of soil. Dandelions basking in the beams of the lazy Sunday sun. Indescribable I am gay I am young fresh eyed with tinted marigold colored sunglasses. Spinning in hope and flower crowns. Wild fae a nectar of innocence pouring out my veins. Chimes dance effortlessly in the winds. Cherry blossoms drift. I’d like to kiss possibly French kiss lick every new sensation around me. Dainty whimsical colors have encapsulated this once dying place. Busting little sprouts weeding out the earth springing bonjour! What a fine day! Winged creatures chirp and play recklessly oh to be young and free. The caress of soft cottonballs hanging in the blue look a tulip, sky. Is this happiness. I frolic and prancing to the strings the hymns of birth. Giggling tiptoeing buttercups. Such simplistic ecstasy to be alive.

Most things comes in waves

The seasons and seas

the cool spring breeze

Take a moment to relax

Maybe enjoy a face mask

Don’t think about any upcoming tasks

Take a deep breath, nice and slow

As you release letting the air go...

Close your eyes and imagine the skies

The sounds of nature in you space

instead of the city’s fast pace

take a moment to envision yourself swaying slowly with the breeze

by a field , the forest , or in the seas--take in the moment--you must seize

these short moments of life

You fell into me like 

a warm glistening stone

and as a still body of water

I parted and received

opened

and closed

ripples touching

even the shore

rivulets

pouring across

long ago formed

places of power

made to contain the pull

and sway of so much

almost tender pain

that must be

the way things

find their way

in the dark

I only know these things

as whispered hearsay

“Then my compliments to the chef!”

Natalia was smiling. It wasn’t often she had time between rehearsal to go out and she’d managed about an hour to herself in a small little restaurant only a block away from the studio. She wasn’t dressed for a proper lunch; large sweater, black leggings and her leotard still on. She wouldn’t let herself get caught like this in public if she hadn’t been so hungry, just about licking her plate clean as she was met with a friendly face. 

“I’ve been starving all morning. This was amazing, really,” she complimented, ignoring the rumbling in her stomach even after finishing her meal. Natalia’s cheeks tinted red. “I might actually order again, if you wouldn’t mind.”

Assuming the blooming occurs again, I'll wheeze when pollen's fallen and seize sight of bees, the hardest working nectar- miners in show business. Spring's that thing, that dated zing of warmth correlated to a meaningful swing in globular orbit. Spring sings Winter's obit. Yes, yes, bursting buds, returning birds, etc. Renewal, Inc., roars into town again, down again by the river, a regular revival of survival-impulse (hang on to your wallet). Call it what you will, Spring's one shrewd season, more instinct than reason, a shout of regenerative clout. Come on in, my big-blossomed baby. We've been waiting for you, oh-so-long.

The sun remembers how to stay, and oh — I had forgotten this, the way its warmth just finds your face like something close to bliss.

My winter skin soaks up the gold, each ray a slow unthaw, like I've been holding my whole breath since sometime late in fall.

Spring arrives, with mud and muck, field and plain, you see, From winter's cold slumber, weeds pop up (no flowers, sadly!). The sparrows chirp and fuss, annoyed in every tree, Those quiet, bland cold days are gone (not "bitter," too dramatic, maybe!).

The sun shines down, the soil just turns to icky clay, Weeds sprout like crazy, bugs burst forth to ruin the day. A dusty breeze blows, bringing sneezes on the air, Allergies are back, attacking noses everywhere (humans too, beware!).