The early riser

An early rising
met with a surprising
violence
She Is suffering
She’s feminine in flight
Clearly wanting nothing
of what is this early roughness
As the Tedium of Winter
tries to smite
Her waxy green leaves
coping with this fury
Her golden tresses
Hopeful now to gain
Trying to withstand
the wilt and weakness
So the effort
she expends is not
In vain.

A single daffodil
is being battered
But is managing with difficulty
to remain
Upright in the swirl
and sway of a February storm
With innocence
and beauty she does gain
A foothold in the image
of the morning
Against the backdrop
of a hurling roar
A khaki sky and the lacy twigs
of winter
And The early blooming
from a frosty floor

and now the hail is cutting
and is bruising
An audaciousness and intrepidity
Doting on the hopefulness
that endurance
Will win through in the end
And we shall see.
a carpet of Spring Flowers
The glorious Crocuses
Narcissus and Jonquills
Everywhere
Utter joy
and perhaps a tell tale aura
For those that see
And are of course aware

*INSPIRED BY MY FRIEND SIMON And his lady ANNE