Mid-March. For any who may be interested, Mid-March (06) is typed under this one.
Snowy Mespil, has long since, been in bloom,
With its white flowers delicate and rare.
Yellow forsythia, is finding room,
With those blossoms, butter-coloured and fair.
The first red tulips, we can now behold;
Though their season's really still to come.
Intro-making, while yet a little cold,
Before the tulip's rush hour has begun;
For won't they soon the daffodils replace?
Gracing the gardens with their turbaned heads.
Heads that lack the accomplishment of face;
In case they see the grimy garden beds.
Mid-March is hastening the springtime here;
Which soon will coax the summer to draw near.
Seasonal Sonnet Memory Lane. This 'Mid-March', was first posted into Allpoetry on: 16/03/2006.
Mid-March
Crocuses and snowdrops are flow'ring rife.
Blackbird with leaves for its nesting is seen.
Everywhere is blithe spring bursting to life;
Inspite of the teeth of sharp breezes keen.
Tumult of rooks, beneath tall trees, is heard.
Grey, cumbersone, herons fly now in pairs.
That some gulls gain black heads has it occurred;
With white heads of winter this well compares.
Hammering woodpeckers augment their dins;
Great-spotted, mostly, rejoicing with sound.
To produce blooms, forsythia begins,
Soon will yellow blossoms be all around.
Donning, is Mid-March, its colourful coat;
Shortly, in tatters, through air this may float.
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