New Poetry by Patricia Walter

 

 

 

Irish bright, past their prime

tulips burst forth from buds of delight.

Sweet smells in the air, fresh mowed grass

dogwoods ready to pop.

Forysthia hold tight to a last few blooms

while tinges of green lace trees in the woods.

Nature's gift of spring warms a cold winter spirit

with the promise of growth and renewal.

Poetry by Patricia Walter 2009