march, march

…

march, march
a lion roaring in
like an irate lamb

march, march
a mad bastard hare
is boxing fog & puddles

march, march
the starch on your pants
another laundry daydream

march, march
a troupe of baboons
escaped from the zoo’s confines

march, march
the shape of tomorrow
is leafen & somewhat green

march, march
the cherry blossom zen
overloads – then explodes

march, march
a lamb baas, leaving
like a sleeping lion

…

spring tart

spring tart ( by final vernal warning )

…



come hither

let's dither

as serpents

they slither


with vigour

we'll whisper

as archers

they quiver


with glitter

& mirrors

as fools run

with scissors ( ! )


let's blither

by rivers

til autumn

leaves wither

...

vernal ditherings

springtime

never really dies

instead

out of season

it hides & skives

yet old ewes & rams

were once new lambs

there are traces of spring

in everything

then cometh the owl

it launches

an attack

a dawn raiding party

then winter

 is sacked

yes death to death

breathe life on black

aye

it's called springtime

'cause it always bounces back

...

dawn of the bud

on the brink

of the incipient

 the coming

of the budding

on the verge

of the scourge

of that infernal

vernal

it mocks

from the branches

with embryonic

 glances

'fear us now' 

it's telling me

'our sticky bud supremacy'

...

rural affairs

at first they were grazing in the greensward of the vale

then further plus gradient

over that dale





later somehow they managed to acquire passports

many sights their eyes saw

on their extensive world tour





then apparently they went all over the place

they plodded through time

they ambled through space





yes throughout existence with a moo they didst roam

but in last night's omen

the cows came home





forever

...

resarf poetry

( ? )

Spring