Here come the bells of spring 
Dressed to the nines in flashing fairy colors.
Fields of plenty reach far and wide.
Thousands of flowery fingers a throbbing bouquet.
The bridal of flower and sky
Braided in fragrant morning mist.

Slender grasses leap on perfumed air.
Wide awake, midday light shrieks.
Petal forms gaze up at the morning sun
Planting a dewy kiss with a sigh.
Lush moss curves along wooded banks,
Spiking dreams leading one astray.

Young tree buds amass in murmuring voices.
Full with chatter, long oriole songs.
Dogwoods love the hills and mountains.
So proud, tall beauties stand aloft.
Obsessed with secret paths,
Young ferns whiff a tender breeze.

Secret urges stir in silky patterns
Delighted, cool meadows take shape.
Watching spring run in its fresh frock,
I cannot bear to cuts its wild orchid stalks.


More by :  MaryAnn Harrison

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