The day is grey
still a magpie sings
Perched on a bare
budding bough
Of intending spring
The seeming naked earth
awakening from sleeping
As bulging bulbs
send forth their shafts and leaves
In known and upright dignity
Anticipated flower
so near so far
Yet birth and death now embraced
within the embryo of nurturing
Created and creating




Looking forward to more of your magical works









31 old applause
