Steward. April, 2014Spring Promise – a poem lost
Pore white blossoms
clad the boughs
The cherry tree
Spring-Clad, is now.
Where are all the honey bees
That come to flit between the trees?
Warming sun has fled the sky,
And a straffing breeze is nigh.
Soon the empty petals drop,
Springtime snowstorm, lessened crop.
Come my beauties tirelessly toil
To wrench a bounty from the soil.
Berries clustered, one, two, three,
Juicy, ripened, just for me.
Behold, the shining jewel-like throng,
Red and black, from springtime song.
Luscious, hanging tender, sweet,
Waiting birds, go tweet, tweet.
Benefit is surely theirs
From red dress, my cherry tree wears.
© Copyright Evelyn