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


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