I love spring - why doesn't she love me? |
Rites of Spring Ahhhhhchoooo! (Bless me) It must be Spring. A time when leaves are opening and pollen starts to fill the air. It coats my car and dusts my hair. Don't get me wrong. I love this time when the earth is in its prime; the yellows of the daffodils, the shamrocks, green upon the hills. The bright hydrangea's flowered ball, the purple Iris standing tall; this lovely pallet from the earth reminds us of a new year's birth. The sunlight filters through the air with dust motes dancing everywhere. I look upon the rainbow skies; the hues a gift of tearing eyes. The crocus brightly paints the hills; competes with colors of the pills that I must take or, as they say... the beauty takes my breath away! So many colors – Spring's jubilee. I love nature; why doesn't she love me? An entry for "Invalid Item" Prompt: Write a poem about your favorite part of Spring! Line Limit: 25 Line Count: 23 Thank you for taking the time to read my words. Please, take a few seconds and leave me your comments. Reactions, criticisms, questions - yes, even praise – are all equally welcome. |