Ray Boorman

FALSE SPRING

 


I can’t believe its January

What sky so vivid blue

Its small white dots of wispy cloud

With tints of orange hue,

 

Mild breeze blows soft and gentle

Low sun casts shadows long

As hedgerows bud prematurely

Small birds shrill out their song,

 

Winter seems but just a dream

As its harshness dwindles low

But may still awaken daggers drawn

Bringing with it ice and snow.

 

All rights belong to its author. It was published on e-Stories.org by demand of Ray Boorman.
Published on e-Stories.org on 01/11/2012.

 

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