It’s a time of fresh beginnings now,
green sap pulses in verge and bough,
melting remaining morning rime:
grass stands to attention by breakfast time.
Invisible crayons colour in flowers
and scribble blossom in naked bowers,
transforming monochrome to pastel tones:
sun breathes warmth into soil and bones.
Boisterous birds have banished winter quiet
with their cheerful whistling, chattering riot,
announcing each dawn with expectation:
they rouse the sluggish world from hibernation.
Awakened by the timid touch of earlier rays
and eager to embrace the day,
we wind our clocks an hour ahead:
we want to get up out of bed.
Kim M. Russell, 2017
A reminder that this Sunday the UK springs forward to British Summer Time.
A lovely description of spring, Kim. We “sprang forward” on the 12th–it’s taken me over a week to adjust!
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Thanks Merril. I wish they’d leave the clocks alone!
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I do, too!
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Terrific! 🌹🌹🌹🌹🌹
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Thank you very much, Dorna!
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