Coming Spring~

Cover photography by my sister, Emma Catherine Smith.

She is the delicate little flower

Encircling her wicker bower,

A weaving, searching, climbing tower

Seeking to reach high.

She is the song the peepers sing,

The pond alive as echoes ring.

The songbirds which again take wing

And dance along the sky.

She is the scent of sodden earth,

Plants and creatures given birth,

Beauty and newness well beyond worth,

Bidding Cold farewell. 

She is the wind beneath the flight

Of returning geese with feathers white,

The soothing healer of Winter's bite,

The color of the bluebell. 

She is the whisper of new life,

Repeller of Frost's chilling knife,

To end the bleak, unceasing strife,

The voice of all who sing.

She is the fragrance in the air,

The answer to the desperate prayer

Of those longing for the weather fair...

She is the coming Spring.

Copyright Hannah Scarlett 2013

The Awakening~

For many long months

The snow has stayed.

Over hard and lifeless ground

It has been softly laid.

Clouds have blotted out

The winter sky,

As gray and dismal days

Have passed, unending, by.

But the wind that blows

Without rest or peace,

Deep within knows

That soon it must cease.

As the grass reappears,

Conquering its snowy oppressor,

The cold will fall back,

Growing steadily lesser.

The sun calls out new life,

His rays warm and coaxing;

Spring is free of strife,

So hope-giving and inspiring.

The clouds fade and flee,

Winter; so forsaken...

The air carries the scent of flowers,

Spring; life will awaken...

 

© Hannah Scarlett 2011

When Day is Done~

A warm fire to sit at,

My faithful rocker: an old friend;

Glowing candlelight to read by,

The late-night comforts at day's end.

A cup of hot tea in my hand,

A cushion to my back,

A softly breathing cat curled at my feet,

Tonight there is nothing I lack.

Across the room,

A bed ready-made,

My head dares to nod,

And the fire starts to fade.

The day's cares gone,

My slumber at hand,

I crawl into bed,

 Slipping into a dream-filled land...

For the sun has retired,

And the moon now glows;

I will presently rest my head,

'til morning once more shows.

© Hannah Scarlett 2011