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Lady in White

by bluesky3d 

Posted: 22 November 2003
Word Count: 122
Summary: Primavera


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She stirs
upon white sheets
a robin dips its wings
and showers the world with song

She turns
to tell the once-bare face of time
‘winter’s almost gone’

She rises
with the crocus,
and bestows her welcome
upon the animals and birds

She writes
not with words
but with poetry in the air
the sound of bees
and perfumed fragrances

She dances
amid confetti torn from the trees
and plays amongst the woodwind reeds
slips, slides, flirts and hides from view

She paints
her masterpiece anew
a pastel palette of fine chalk pinks
and impressionistic greens

She sleeps
to rest another year
shares her optimism with the sun
her job near done

She dreams
and tells the world…
‘summer’s yet to come’











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Comments by other Members



The Walrus at 09:32 on 23 November 2003  Report this post
On a grey drizzly morning, how refreshing! 'dances
amid confetti torn from the trees' - fabulous.

The Walrus


bluesky3d at 12:08 on 23 November 2003  Report this post
... totally inappropriate I know, but didn't want to write about the grey of the day - it must mean something? escapism? - thanks Walrus

poemsgalore at 12:21 on 23 November 2003  Report this post
Thank goodness spring comes every year and that people like you write poems like this to remind us when we forget. How wonderful, it cheered me up no end.

Dee at 13:28 on 23 November 2003  Report this post
Andrew, this is lovely. And I don't think it's inappropriate at all. I believe we should appreciate each season as it comes round. A few years ago I was talking to a friend one grey drizzly November evening. He told me how much he hated November, how much the grey skies and the fogs depressed him. I said I had come to love November because I pictured the greyness and the mists as a comforting old blanket to snuggle under while I waited for the year to turn at the winter solstice. A year later he told me how I had helped him to see the beauty of winter in general and November in paticular. The following November he died quite unexpectedly. I have been thinking about him over the past few days and will always be grateful that I changed his views of the month in which he died. So your poem feels very appropriate to me.
Thank you.
Dee.

The Walrus at 15:04 on 23 November 2003  Report this post
Poignant and touching comments Dee. 'Inappropriate' Andrew? So? I am not aware of any rules that dictate one should only write according to current season. 'Escapism'? Maybe, but I would surmise it is a vivid remembrance combined with an realistic appreciation of nature/life's beauty.

The Walrus

Richardwest at 17:09 on 23 November 2003  Report this post
Guess Walrus said it all but 'she writes not with words but poetry in the air' is resonant too. Perfect panacea for a grey day like today and thus all the more appreciated.
Richard

Ellenna at 17:45 on 23 November 2003  Report this post
Perfect poem.. perfect timing! wonderful feeling of fresh green and blossom, hope and all things new..
Ellie :)

bluesky3d at 06:26 on 25 November 2003  Report this post
'Perfection is a trifle dull. It is not the least of life's ironies that this, which we all aim at, is better not quite achieved.'
* W. Somerset Maugham

Thanks Richard and Ellie, much appreciated.

Andrew :o)


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