The Call of Spring

Hairy Tree 1

The glorious clarion-call of spring
extends its voice to every thing:

to wild trees that dance and stomp,
their red tails sparking as they romp;

Hairy Tree 2 Evergreen Fingers

No less, to stolid evergreen
with bright-tipped fingers reaching keenly
outward toward the fiery glow
of brilliance every way bestowed—
on orange paintbrush, flares of red,
on hanging blushes overhead,

Red Blooms Purple Daisies

Red Burst Rhododendrons-White

on dainty violet marguerites,
’mid celadon, succulent sweets,
’mong spid’ry pastel maidenhead,
within an ink-blue orchid bed;

Overhanging Blushes Violet Iris Iris Bed

Even the fungus no light blesses,
like folkloric Spanish dresses,
flounces subtle elegance,
while new-green leaves find fresh expanse;

Pastel Spidery Blushes Frilly Fungus Green Leaves

Aground, e’en rocks have loving spots
of old-grown lichen, green-moss dots
that shine like polished medals, proud
to fete with the exub’rant crowd;

Indian Paintbrush Moss-dotted Rock Rhododendrons--Yellow

Let this young spring, so long awaited,
blossom as anticipated,
every squirrel and fish and bee,
donning his vernal finery,

Tree branches

set about the world’s renewing,
every moment busy, doing;
Let every living, growing thing,
reciprocate the call of spring!

© 2014 Anne Campagnet-Reed

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