Poem By Charlotte Ballard
No snow broke the spring's interruption-
No fields white like a virgin's wedding sheet
Or sparkles like diamonds glittering over
A clean expanse cleared of brush, bramble
And all the flowers grown.
No flakes fluttered, dancing in unsung
Rills, of four in hand, and doe se doe.
Only Ice, the wicked cousin, kissed the trees
And made them break no longer friend, no longer foe.
A march wind brushes the oak tree's hair in
Long silver trails, giggling as it goes.
Frog lovers kiss after a noisy courtship
And I must be satisfied, and
Wait again for next year.