Home | Stories of Life | KidsWrite | Poetry | Copyright | Submit
Poet: Patricia Cash The Write Place
Pat is a retired teacher whoenjoys wrting poetry and combines this skill with her love of gardening. She is also the author of many French materials for teachers.
Forward Spring
Miffed,
my daffodils
regard grass just begun
filling up
with clustered snow,
their golden faces
seeming merely brazen,
barefaced before their time.
They are not cowed.
Radiant,
they eye
hibernal remnants,
breathe the cold,
absorb the damp
and trump the day
with glad countenance.
No Sad Myth Here
Come hither all,
the hyacinths
flaunt their bosoms
in the wind
spilling out of their bustiers.
Zaftig and pink,
these burgeoning burgundies
harbour
the headiest
of spring perfumes
causing the bumbles
to nuzzle
and wobble away
upon
intoxicated wings.
The Blues
Pipsqueak
forget-me-nots,
a contagion of impish eyes,
ubiquitously blue,
sequinned
among the greenery.
How far up they look
to see how far they fell,
dusted out of heaven.
So pretty, so naughty,
the little bruisers
make us feel
the exile.
Notice: Copyright on all works posted on Scruffy Plume remains with the authors.
No reproduction is permitted without permission. Thank you
