The Daffodils Dispatch

Nature's quarrelsome sisters

 Autumn’s garment is colored bright. Taffeta rustling on a breezy night. Her flowing gown is not second hand, but Summer's green remastered by Mother Nature's hands. Her layers are slowly stripped away by the dance of the seven veils, and by the Harvest Moon, her beauty is unveiled. The last ascot of russet red crumbles upon the soil. Thus closing this years act with the final Canadian passing South, and as if you could reverse the blooming of a rose, Autumn's splendor is bowed low. 

Winter, she is the twisted sister, singing to a 4/4 count, and with her heavy tempo a blue northern is set out, and just that quick our Indian Summer is stamped out.

The baton now passed Winter strums a wicked riff, smoke on the water, wails as she tests her rim.  Humans bundle in scarf and coat, while she is dressed down for the next several months. Her slender frame is on display. As the little birds mill together wishing for Spring. Winter’s tiny token is the evergreen, and beneath its foliage, they find a small reprieve. 

When longer days first appear a glimmer of hope fills the air, with more Sun to shine the ground doth warm, and wild onions are the first to come. The flora kingdom, is in a race. The renewing of life is never second rate. Daffodils’ break thru the frozen ground to recite a message so profound, “Winter our queen you need your rest, and we’re almost done with Spring’s new dress.”

Winter, such a willful beast, kicks up a fuss with a snowy scream, with tender growth deftly tethered, her chilling laughter rings so bitter, but tender buds drink up the ice, and timid Spring, she steals a kiss, and the blushing Sun, he does the rest. Snow now gone the buds sprout flags, and morning light reveals Spring’s crest. For buds once tightly posed have come undone. Pinks and whites are on display. Spring is here in her Sunday best, just in time for the robins to nest. 

Pairing birds prepare to mate, even man see’s the change. Spawning fish find a stream and waking bears arise from their dreams. Spring has sprung there’s work to do. So plant your garden and sow your seed, enjoy these days gifted by sister Spring.

Author's Note

i'm close

Reviews

[Jolan H]

yeah I would say so, nicely chosen, wording and most of all the daffodils, one of the most underrated flowers ever, made fresh and exciting by your words

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you Ronin
And I agree daffodils are under appreciated. :)

[Jolan H]

sorry I have been around this silverbolt thing has my undivided attention right now. Sam Steele legendary mountie in the next storie soooo excited, his is one of my heroes for real

[Cherrie Palmer]

That's always exciting, I'm glad to hear it.

[Stella Armour]

Lovely and descriptive, i always smile a little when i read the difference in plants in other countries, but we both do have the lovely yellow, nodding daffodils .

Each season has its own beauty ...

[Cherrie Palmer]

Yes and daffodils seem to have so much to say.

[Stella Armour]

yes, proper ,little chatterboxes they are :)

[jacob erin-cilberto]

what a lovely stream of consciousness view of Spring...the sights, the sounds, the feel captured so well here.The in-line rhyme so well done...i must plant my garden now...as you have planted that seed of thought in my mind with your poem.
j.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you Jacob I'm considering changing up the format but can't decide.

[jacob erin-cilberto]

I think for this particular piece, your format works well...it is poetic prose.
j.

[Cherrie Palmer]

Thank you I needed a little input on that:)

[John Alexander McFadyen]

An uplifting and flowing rhyming piece on nature and the changing seasons. Uplifting and filled with glorious detail and excellent descriptions.