Although, Showers

Lethargy, my love, quick to leave

and sooner still to forget,

she plays the piano in a series of staccatos.

 

I stopped to smell the lilacs once,

dazzling gleams of pollen

frosted in glassy emerald spheres, dewdrops.

 

And it was spring, season of gold,

through which I tumbled

like ladybugs down droopy green waterslides.

 

I felt like fire, but God felt blue,

so I sunk my toes in mud

hollows, poking pebbles with open umbrellas.

 

And yes, the sparrows sang with

deep red fermatas, cherry

blossoms sailing along breezes, salty sweet.

 

I wanted to bask in radiant glory,

but I settled for solidarity

in the pit pat of beautiful grass knotted harps.

 

I danced in tidal pinks, and although

I dreamt of tomorrow's grace,

I found a gentle love for the showers of May.

Reviews

[Addy]

Cute. U have a way with words.