Monday, April 8, 2013


Subtle and sprightly
spring’s fists,
they are there
in the fields,
like tight stares,
branches in shades
of rose and white,
earth’s prime,
apple, peach
and cherry flowers,
these the brightest,
sparkling under the rain,
telling that even if
you have been torn
inside for so long,
you can’t stop wishing
to be born.


Dave King said...

Great insights here, especially in the ending. Really enjoyed this read.

Muhammad Hussain said...

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Crafty Green Poet said...

I agree with Dave, some good insights here