Thursday, 27 February 2014

The Change

It’s imperceptible at first
On ice-free pond – birds slake their thirst
The North wind’s bite now just a nip
Where is Jack Frost’s wintry grip?

Bare branches still but here and there
Green shadows as new leaves appear
The woodland paths - a sodden mire
Are drying as the sun climbs higher.

Pale rays but warm, few clouds, blue skies
The birds have sensed the change; their cries
Are harbingers of this year’s spring;
Isn't Nature such a wondrous thing?

(c) Poet in the woods 2014

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