When it’s spring: A poem

I will be raking off winter’s grey leaves in September charm

Cold crime novels and hot brandy no longer on my arm

Emotions will be buzzing like a nectar-sucking bees’ swarm

The birds will chirp to colours of buttercups and peonies, and morning calm

People will gather around the parks’ barbecues and drink beer like water

Daylight will last longer and longer, and the sun will get hotter

It is not the season for the couch potato, but time, for gardens, to sow

Butterflies with wonderful wings will dance to the breeze in the meadow

Winter’s wistful scrawl in the notebook will be all but forgotten

Knee-length pants and short-sleeved shirts will be put on the iron

The woolens carefully packed, the beanie thankfully off my hair

I will not yet then worry of December and summer’s harsh glare

Published by montecyril

Hi, I am Monte Cyril Rodrigues and live in Melbourne, Australia. I am a retired journalist. I have been diagnosed with schizophrenia. I've had voices and visions all my life. I think it is a spiritual experience, my doctors think otherwise. I am a deeply spiritual person and keep having experiences with otherworldly realms. View more posts