Spring song

The golden trumpet blows its song of spring
In silence, crying for the voice to bring
The early warmth of blossom, winter's end;
For snow and fog and hail from now offend.
Now only softest greens will be allowed
And hosts of daffodils - a Wordsworth crowd!

Soft pinks and whites of budding cherry flowers
And apples too in leafy orchard bowers
Provide the focus for an insect crowd
To pollinate: thus might they be endowed
With many a fruit for autumn's rich delight.
Yet wait! for there might still be frost at night!

And now the birds begin to sing their songs
To wake the morning and declare the throng
Of leaf and flower and insects now returned.
The new year courtship, many a lover spurned -
But others in their feathered finery have won:
Mating, nest building and joy as life's begun.

The warmth of early sunshine and the sound
Of myriad life awakening; now is found
The early budding cowslip and primrose
Which from the meadow grass quickly rose.
I love the sense of new awakening life
And end of winter's cold and stormy strife.