i have yellow fever
after spotting the egg-white moon
hiding behind the golden hair of willow trees
i hurry to garnish
marigold and calendula seeds in pots
the spring air is here
licking our faces with sugar rain
our skin is hungry for the heat
of sun, wheat fields, maple
syrup running down bare maple trees
i can see daffodils buds & blue ivy stalks
& hostas leaves sprouting
where winter ice has torched it bare
now, light lingers long into the night
marking the time for potting &
tilling the soil moist & ready for flowers
i can imagine the ripeness
i can smell the flowers
pink, blue, red, apricot, cream & specially
yellow ones
Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics: Everything Yellow, hosted by Sarah Connor. Thanks for your visits and comments.
An explosion of colour - I love your use of yellow words, and the burgeoning spring of your poem is just delightful. I really like the use of "yellow fever" - it's a great line to start with - arresting and playful in the way you develop it. Lovely writing.
ReplyDeleteThis is incredibly gorgeous writing, Grace! 💖 I especially admire this part; "the spring air is here/ licking our faces with sugar rain/our skin is hungry for the heat of sun, wheat fields, maple syrup running down bare maple trees." 😍😍
ReplyDeleteI love the way you describe that feeling right before the spring is exploding, I can feel the energy in all those buds ready to explode.
ReplyDeleteYou’ve filled your poem with spring fever, Grace, a gardener’s dream, and so much colour! And I love the thought of spring air ‘licking our faces with sugar rain’.
ReplyDeleteLove everything about this....wonderful imagery. I am especially smitten by these words:
ReplyDelete"the spring air is here
licking our faces with sugar rain"
These words just make me smile :)
Ah! The gardener's rapturous words are such a delight! Grace, gorgeous writing.
ReplyDeleteYou've captured the relief of winter's end and a promise realized in spring. Such an uplifting poem, Grace.
ReplyDeleteNothing says Spring like...
ReplyDeleteSo many of your poems are about seeds and planting. I'm glad you'll be able to get on with it soon. It's already too late here, everything is flowering and the ground is baked too hard to dig. (this is Jane btw not anonymous)
ReplyDeleteVery nicely done, Grace. Hang in there. Spring yellow is moving up your way... It won't be long now.
ReplyDeleteI really like "licking out faces with sugar rain" and "i can imagine the ripeness."
ReplyDeleteSplendid poem. I especially liked the line, "light lingers long into the night"
ReplyDeleteAn intense longing for the sun.
ReplyDeleteHappy you dropped by my blog.
Much💛love
hiding behind the golden hair of willow trees is a great way of seeing the blooming spring
ReplyDeleteYellows here warm the springtide everywhere one looks, or takes the time to, wan and mellow and growing.
ReplyDeleteI love, love the lush ripeness in your poem .... Thank you for leaving me a comment!
ReplyDeleteWonderful sense of anticipation
ReplyDeleteBeautiful poem, Grace. It made me hungry for sugar rain. (ChuOnThis) 😋💛
ReplyDeletei can smell the flowers
ReplyDelete& specially yellow ones
While yellow is not overly loud it gets better mentioned from the rest. Nothing attractive from being associated with sourness, still it holds out on its own.
Hank
Spring came early for us this year, but I understand the intensity of this longing. So full of sensory images, Wonderful!
ReplyDelete