Easter Benediction


Not yet flowers but green shadows of ivy
Climbing the white stone garden fence,
Pine pitch fragrance of chimney smoke.

Not quite Spring but the old impatience,
Deep-rooted gratitude for one more season,
For one less long winter to be endured.

The blessing of his work-weathered hands
Softly sewing seeds in the hunger of birds,
Wings and ashy smoke opening like flowers.




Poetry by countryfog
Read 440 times
Written on 2011-04-24 at 16:17

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And all in pristine time!
2011-04-25


josephus The PoetBay support member heart!
Hello and Happy Easter my friend.
Your verse warms me softly

Joe
2011-04-24


shells
I feel the tendrils of the spring sun upon reading this, serenely beautiful.
2011-04-24


John Ashleigh
Like an opening of a bud in spring time, stretching towards the sun of ambition and perfection, reaching out to those that read into it. Beautiful.

Your friend,
John.
2011-04-24