I’m going to write a poem so everyone feels good. I’ll make it bright and cheery as I know I should. Peculiar times upon us, isolation’s now the norm. But spring is out in force; soon we’ll all feel warm. ~ Trees are soon to blossom, grass is soon to green. Flowers will share their colors, bees will tend their queen. Nature shares her secrets, life does rise again. Birds are already singing, though we’ve a bigger brain. ~ The future has no guide; we live from day to day. Optimism is our key to find a better way. Life will throw some curves and everyone has a pitch. Some may catch a virus, some will find their niche. ~ Love is in our heart, compassion’s in our soul. Thoughts fill our heads, they make us feel whole. The earth will stay in motion; the sun will rise and fall. Time’s now to show our mettle and share with one and all.
One more month and spring is here. When freezing to death’s no longer a fear. We’ll pack our sweaters, hats and coats. Soon the bay will fill with boats. ~ Flowers will bloom and temps will rise. Trees will green before longing eyes. Days get longer, nights a bit cool. But now we wait, because time’s cruel. ~ I don’t hate winter or the cold. But those months are growing old. I do like autumn but spring is still best. So for one more month I’ll just rest.
A little note wishing all a happy spring,
it’s time for rebirth and the joy it brings.
Days grow warmer with sunshine long.
Mornings greeted with nature’s song.
Birds and bees awe with their aerial dance.
Colors blossom and the scents of flora enhance.
A new world beckons and eyes gleam.
Hearts thaw and minds again dream.
With a snowy blanket to ward of the chill,
deep in the forest a den lay still.
Then spring arrives, eyes soon gaze,
all that’s missed in the winter’s haze.
The most daring, of course, popped out first,
the second unsure but for their thirst.
While the last clung to their hungry mom,
till out she burst, not seeking calm.
In the new light the young family squinted.
Then in a blink the awed group splintered.
Mama was busy with breakfast in her sights.
The cubs were curious of nature’s delights.
Full of fear the timid cub sat alone.
With teary eyes closed all was unknown.
The adventurous pair now frolicked out of view.
Mama roared and they all knew what to do.
Back at the den the family again met.
Mama spoke firmly and new rules set.
Wherever she goes the cubs will too.
And what she says is what they’ll do.
Each a reason to not like what was said.
Each had ideas in their very own head.
Sticking together down the path they forged,
when new grass found for all to gorge.
A stream nearby was sure to taste nice,
it’s wintry fresh but cold as ice.
The foolish pair dove in and quickly back out.
The timid one laughed and mama was in doubt.
For the cubs it was their second spring.
But mama feared they hadn’t learned a thing.
Their season’s short with much to do.
Will her cubs be ready, she hadn’t a clue.
Back safe in their den all were glad,
bellies were full and fun was had.
The next day started much the same.
For two of the cubs it all seemed a game.
Grabbing for a beehive and to their surprise,
this prickled pair soon felt it unwise.
Fallen from the tree to roll down the hill,
a vacant hive was about to thrill.
While the humbled duo ran off in fright.
The shy little cub had lunch in sight.
With hardly a care they lunged for the treat.
Head first they met, the greeting sweet.
Mama returned hearing her cubs horrid wail.
But seeing her sticky one she knew the tale.
With a quick loving lick down the path she rushed.
At least for now one cub was hushed
Back at the stream the others found unharmed.
Mama’s relieved though still alarmed.
Did the cubs recall or was it a whim;
a lesson learned that bees can’t swim.
The bears then flew back, hasty to arrive.
There they all dove into that tasty hive.
The cubs soon napped and mama felt less fear.
And this is barely a story, unless you’re a bear.
The sun’s rising on a happy note. Music’s low, eyes open to what she wrote. Spirit’s high and excitement’s felt. Colorful words shared and dwelt. ~ The sky’s brightening to pastel hues. Old snow absorbs winter’s blues. Each day wanes its frosty reflection. Moments are waiting of pure perfection. ~ Warming’s new, thawing on its way. Lives freshly created every day. Images stage what’s perceived. Minds arrange what’s deceived. ~ Visions form words, words become visions. Answer’s clear but for decisions. As is the suns rise and fall, without doubt. Our projection, this day’s about.
Suspended in the depths of gloom and despair,
there death is longed and life’s feared.
Where darkness consumes all’s lost,
with one breath the line crossed.
But that’s not today and that’s good.
The sun’s shining as it should.
The air chilled but warming’s near.
Spring’s now longed, none’s to fear.