It’s spring in North Florida. By far, the finest season, but always far too short.Â
Come enjoy my fabulous fashion show, and thanks for coming by to read!
The mustard bolts.
The land revolts.
The weeds are in a dither.
The pond slips on
A yard of land,
Grass floating yon and hither.
And fuchsia dons
Rhododendrons,
And cypress knees appear,
And bluebirds whistle
While the thistle
Flaunts its prickly spear.
An iris peeks
With purple cheeks,
And waders, for its clothes.
With blooms, the rose
At last explodes:
The catwalk’s stunning close.
What luxury!
What finery!
What mummery! What fun!
A sandspur
Pokes it’s prickly burr,
And poof!
The season’s done.
Copyright 2021 Andrea LeDew
To view other pieces on gardens, see Garden Come Summer, The Secret Garden, and The Enclosed Garden.
This is a fun poem! Here in the Granite State, we’re in mud season. Not fashionable at all.
Haha!
😀