February 21

Winter Aconite

_____________________________________

Wearing ruffled scarves in the green of spring

at once an army of flowers emerge

though it’s cold and there may even be snow.

The troops have quickly spanned, naturalizing,

longer, warmer days causing the upsurge

from small brown tubers submerged deep below.

In gold cup-shaped helmets these soldiers spread.

Platoons March around the garden to merge

head to head, creating a glow

through which no other would be so bold to tread

but slow.

_____________________________________

(A Curtal Sonnet)

February 19

Crocus

_____________________________________

The calendar whispers,

“it is still winter here

in the northern hemisphere.”

*

The warm air envelopes

encouraging the soft hum of bees buzzing

hinting to something otherwise.

*

Countless bright purple crocus rise

to scream loudly

“spring is on the way!”

_____________________________________

(A Triversen Poem)

January 28

First Egg of the Season

————————————————–

Today I found the first egg

Tucked in the pine flakes of the nest.

I am not sure which of the flock

Of colorful happy hens

Decided to lay the harbinger of spring

First.

*

This perfect pale pink egg was first

Hopefully of many an egg

Laid throughout the spring

Deposited into the nest

By the chatty hens

That make up my flock.

*

I’m enamored by my flock

Though they aren’t my first

They are smart and chatty hens

That lay colorful eggs

Blues, pinks, browns fill the nest

Late winter summer fall and spring.

*

Their productions ramps up in spring

And busy stays my flock

Rotating from coop to yard to nest

The same speckled lady comes to the door first

As I let them out and then check for an egg

laid by one of my personable hens.

*

I just love my feathered fluffy hens

Molting in fall, laying in spring

Regularly producing eggs

Chirps and squawks from the flock.

Without a rooster they don’t awaken first

Then after a morning wander they return to their nest.

*

Each day I check for a surprise in the nest

Left not by choice but by instinct by the hens.

I feed them and water them first

And let them roam free on the warm days of spring

They make a friendly boisterous flock

Talking back, starting trouble, announcing an egg.

*

There is nothing like finding eggs tucked safely into the nest

Produced by my flock of happy colorful hens

Though they produce a lot summer fall and spring the best is finding the first.

(A Sestina Poem)