the fields behind my parents' house


A sense of warmth is tapping at the door; 
And hope, a feeling out from distant lore – Or so it seems 
– clears the deep refrain! 


Emerging youth: a dormant lea awakes.
The raging colour, singing loud, partakesIn annual birth 
– spring is born again! 

A zest anew for nascent life
Begins in floral train: Carriage one: a snowdropp thrill; Carriage two: the crocus; Number three, a daffodil – dancing, Drawing focus – as she would, Attention seeker! 

How I love our spring:
The bold and sleeker feel I get, An inner glow, a ring! I’ve paid the winter’s chilly debt, soNow upon the wing! 

-Mark R Slaughter

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