Ah, Easter. Whether your tradition is to pig out on chocolate bunnies, attend a faith service, or just celebrate the coming of Spring, or for those who care not for these things but prefer "Zombie Jesus Day," I wish you the happiest of days.
I was lucky to begin my day witha bike ride through Morgantown, WV, an a bright and sunny, yet chilly morning. It's a heck of a way to wake up on a Sunday morning, I can tell you. But now, as food preparations are well underway, I'll take a moment to pause, write a poem, and simply enjoy being amongst family.
In the Garden
The Springing colors bounce to life,
hues of blossoming pinks and whites,
blues of hyacinths
purples of hydrangea
in the garden under the sun.
The greening stems unite them now,
each sharing a piece alike
leafy tulips fall,
the lilies narrow blades catch the waters
in the garden in the rain.
How like this verdant pastoral we are,
all the colors vibrant and true,
each bringing special gifts and ceremony,
a sense of the sacred -
a new garden in the sun and rain,
of Man and Woman,
Saints and Sinners,
Old and Young.
Who delights in the garden?
Have yourselves a blessed day, according to your beliefs.
Thanks for reading,
The Fat Kid
1 comment:
Nice introduction. :)
As for the poem, it has a very nice bucolic feel to it, an area it seems you're fond of exploring. The imagery is nice and accessible while fitting in with the larger theme highlighted in the last stanza. The very last line, set apart from the rest, is a nice end cap. Well done.
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