#poem 'poetry 'amwriting turning


there is a permanent chill in the sap rising
a soaking to the skin and out through the leaf
that shivers

it is not the chattering cold of winter
but pleasant goose-bumps to match the freckle
of spring sunshine

as the first flowers die back having satisified
the early bee - petals speckle white -
drop their tantalizing colours - to make way -
to make way for perennial summer

that which droops now wet beneath the slowing rain
will stretch it's veins

and we hope on hope
           for those days

The Blue Book

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