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May

Gone, March winds, capricious and rambunctious.

Pale light of April touches strands of gray.

Moist breezes stir the sun on silver ripples
With liveliness, and, oh! Itís May! Itís May!
And dare we cool bare toes in dancing streams
And toss away the garb of seasons past?
Can we brush loose our silver hair in sunlight,
Look at whatís new and what weíve held so fast?
Lips, firmly resolute, have borne the winter,
Relaxing to a smile as songbirds sing.

Tulips bob in red and gold and purple.

Hearts start to dance and, oh! Itís spring! Itís spring!
Can we stand and take in the dayís beauty,
Seizing from it what we want to hold?
Simply let the fluff blow by unfettered
And maybe see a nugget there of gold.

Itís not too late to dream or to imagine,
To fancy the improbable today
Because in gray thereís a glint of silver,
And after winter, oh! Itís May! Itís May!

©2010 Carol Morfitt

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