(February/'47 / Connecticut, USA)

The Budding

The budding.
A rebirth of a season missed.
Spring arrives to lift spirits high.
Clear blue skies are witnessed...
As white clouds drift.

The budding.
Of flowers and grass and the leaves,
On Oak, Maple and Birch Trees.
Welcomes a lilting done of wind,
Introducing a Spring breeze to ease...
With a life that seems to be enjoyed again.

The budding.
Of familiar love known,
Yet hibernated in the Winter...
Amidst snow drifts.

And we smile and laugh and again forget,
That stress we welcomed to separate us...
From identifying those blessings,
That surrounds us to reach for complete happiness.
To explore and experience all of nature's treasures.

As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding, the blooming and the joy!
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding, the blooming and the joy!
As Spring awakens with a freshness it brings.
With the budding.
The blooming done.
And the joy!

by Lawrence S. Pertillar

Comments (3)

An enjoyable piece...rudimental indeed.
Very fresh poem. I enjoyed it very much. It revels in the pleasures of rudimental emotions. Keep up the good work. -SJD
Your play with words teases the mind into submission's of reality. Exceptional poem, enjoyed reading very much.