"Sovereignty of the Fairest Season" - a poem honoring the majesty of springtime
A Simple Poem to Springtime
Her Majesty ascends the throne in joy today
and gazes fondly at her luxuriant domain
Her subjects bow in multi-hued array
in homage to this monarch’s lavish reign
(Forgotten is the Ice Queen, banished now,
from land that was so dreary and so bleak
till came the heralded furry pantomime
concluding at a glance: not six more weeks)
The sun rays from the scepter in her regal hand
shine down below and make the grass sprout green
Her hair has raindrops flowing from each strand
Rain falls to earth and covers it with sheen
Her workers clothed in yellow striped with black
steadfastly tend their tasks within her gardens
in deference to her sovereign springtime almanac
(This fulsome ruler brooks no delay or pardons)
Resurgence is the coinage of her wondrous realm
and of this rule she tolerates no exceptions
Her abundant fertility rites may somewhat overwhelm
yet their renaissance provides well-timed conception
Her minstrels visit in their fine-feathered plumes
and melodiously croon to her songs with praises
Glorious blooming handmaids waft heady perfumes
but share them not with simple fields of daisies
Court jesters frolic and bury their surprises
expecting to recover them all next fall
Should they forget, a sapling soon arises
From an acorn the mighty tree springs tall
This scene enacts each year in fecund precision
Spring is the coup d’etat offered to mother earth
that overcomes winter’s sluggish indecision
as the grandest season assures abundant rebirth
I must confess that this poem contains several suggested words and phrases that came from my son Russ. Neither he nor I recall which he offered, or which I kept, so I share credit for this poem with him. You will remember, I hope, that I do not claim to be a poet. Although these verses may rhyme, they (mostly) do not scan. Poetry is not my gift, but I do try it occasionally. Fortunately, the mood doesn't struck me often, but the emergence of spring is likely to inspire anyone to poetry....JayeWisdom
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NOTE: This poem is owned by me in entirety. It is not available for use by reproducing in any form without my express written permission. If you see all or any part of this article (as written) on another site, please notify me where it can be found. Theft of a writer's work is plagiarism, and stealing another writer's words is no less wrong than any other theft.
© 2011 Jaye Denman
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