Beside the pond the dogwood blossoms
It’s spiritual message of blood on the cross,
But springtime comes and flowers bloom
Showing their pizzazz in the noonday sun.
Beneath them are daffodils sprouting
Up like a slow motion picture, so green,
And once the heat of the day preens their buds
They shall open like popcorn, buttery yellow.
The water is teeming with polliwogs and skippers
And a wise old trout someone transplanted
Lies in wait as his dinner swims near him.
So fresh the scent of springtime air
A few gold finches sing praise to the sun.
New life, as the fairies and gnomes have blessed it,
We treasure the gems that they give us.