My Sunday Poem … # 14
This is a poem I wrote many years ago when I was living in the wilds of north Norfolk. I’d joined a small group of mostly well established local authors and artists. Most of them could quite literally write (and drink) me under the table. Occasionally I came up with something half decent.
To Spring
Spring
Sweet lady of the flowers
Waiting on the golden gates of Summer
Queen that lends thy beauty to the earth
Out of Winter’s bleak and lowly rags you came
A child of the mist and cold
And though each being in time created
Calls thee by a different name
They love thee with a single knowing Soul.
1951 Club 
Lovely words!
Thank you,Ritu. Have a good week ahead.
You too Chris!
Hi, thank you for the follow today ☺
This is a lovely poem, evoking the contentment we feel once we’ve shrugged off winter and spring has come along.
Hi. Thanks for dropping by and your kind comment.
I love this!
Hi there. Thank you so much. It’s very kind of you. It’s one of those rare poems which fortunately seemed to blossom without trouble for me. Usually it’s much more difficult. All the very best. Kris.
Reblogged this on 1951 Club and commented:
I first posted this in March 2016. It is a beautiful Spring day here in Troon and the daffodils are out in force.