Catkins And Longer Days.

Walking my dog a few weeks ago I noticed how big the catkins had grown, ย and already a haze of green hung across some of the trees. Plus a neighbour was cutting her lawn.

And gold once more

shall shimmer upon

the hope of spring.


Morning birds their

songs prepare


as breaths of

palest emerald blow

across the waiting



new grass shall

soon the mower tempt


and early petals flaunt

their wares.

© sweetwater 2023
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My early petals are flaunting their wares – – oh, you meant flowers. The crocuses in their yellowness have arrived; up through snow is always best. The daffs are about to walk the runway, and the tulips, possibly stunted being overly exposed to hot and cold reviews, are representing in inches. Lovely spring write. After “blow,” the comma is extra.
ps I closed comments on my poems to concentrate on writing. May open in autumn. Prosing a lot lately. Be well ~allets~


This made me smile as my husband got the mower out today! Also we have catkins too, whereas last year for some reason we had none, Lovely spring poem.


Spring is here at last, dreary winter’s past (as an old song once went). You’ve captured the burgeoning of it all, Sue. I’m desperate to get in the garden, but up to my neck in decorating at the moment. Good to catch your poetry.


That’s delightful! I might change ‘mower tempt’ to ‘mower lend’ to cut back a little on the poetic license.


Perhaps so. Somehow I was thinking the grass be given figurative life rather than the inanimate mower. I may have made a mistake. Sorry. The mower could refer to the person as well as the machine and thus cancel out the issue. Ignore the suggestion. It works fine.

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