March

The daffodils are singing
Narcissus in full bloom
Youths once loved their shadows
A gorgeous glowing plume
Bundles of them everywhere
A nosegay of such Thought
Petticoats of orange too
So many bunches bought

Mother’s Day this Sunday
For Mothers near and far
The postmen out delivering
Early yes they are
Amazon and others
Boxes of fine flowers
Without mums where would we be
Among the many showers

Falling out of grey skies
And drab and wet despair
Trees a lot still leafless
Their lacy branches share
A clear view through to cold wet trunks
And branches dark and cool
And underneath great sheaths of daffodils
Loved by us all.