A Presumption of Bloom

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light and winter in the shade. Charles Dickens

The lion leads,
all bluster and roar
behind bared fangs.

From somewhere
a warm breeze
too playful to be afraid,

rubs the tummy
of the wild beast
and before you know it

lion-turned-lamb
gambols over the lea
scattering sun rays.

Even in the shade
we see summer.
Awed by Spring

we emerge,
innocents
with great expectations.

4 comments

  1. Hi Sarah

    Such a perfect play on the old adage about March coming in as a lion and going out as a lamb plus a creative extension of that quote by Charles Dickens. I love the language in this piece and how one creature emerges into the other —

    “From somewhere
    a warm breeze
    too playful to be afraid,

    rubs the tummy
    of the wild beast
    and before you know it

    lion-turned-lamb
    gambols over the lea
    scattering sun rays.”

    And yes, seasons overlap each other. one lies dormant in the breadth of the other and at times, emerges with its hints of its temperament and mood. And how wonderfully you describe our reaction/ participation in this event –

    we emerge,
    innocents
    with great expectations.

    Loved this piece and can picture and feel this one
    so vividly.

    Thank you
    Wendy

    Like

  2. A perfect poem for this time of year, Sarah.

    I find these lines delightful:

    “a warm breeze
    too playful to be afraid”

    I had to smile at the end of the poem
    when I read the words great expectations
    since Great Expectations was written by Charles Dickens.

    I’m so glad his words inspired you
    so that you could write this wonderful poem
    to share with us!

    take care,
    Kerri

    Liked by 1 person

    • Kerri,

      I miss you! Thank you for taking time with my poem, and for your words of encouragement. I am pleased that you noticed great expectations. It was a twist from where my mind started when I began the poem but the muse must have its way.

      Many thanks,

      Sarah

      Like

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