Prelude to Spring-song

Beneath the mute and mirthless shield

Of March-bedraggled cover

Tarries the bliss of daisy field

Of Queen Ann’s lace and clover

Beneath this staid and cheerless scrim

Of hollow quiet ringing

Trembles the touch that probes the limb

Into bloom-petal singing

Beneath the silent, snow-clenched scope

Of winter’s weary gumption

Quivers a season of new hope

And spring-song’s glad redemption

Soon this white space will bear the grace

Of emerald-golden sashes

As winter renders its embrace

To silver spring-song splashes

© Janet Martin