Songbirds harmonize and launch the event,
spring yields to summer throughout the terrain.
Changes are as countless as drops of rain.
Honeysuckles intoxicate with scent,
even the golden ones already spent.
A jovial time befalls field and lane;
a baby robin sheds its egg membrane.
Mowed grass brings on sneezing or was that mint?
Spring bows to summer and thus ends her chase.
Sturdy oaks don their shiniest green leaves
paving the way for the seasonal race.
Rushing streams propel over rocks like sieves.
Summer does not lean; she glides straight with grace
but changes fluid to steam just to tease.
©2014 Brenda Bishop Blakey
Words from The Sunday Whirl: sturdy, scent, propel, chase, terrain, fluid, paving, launch, countless, field, lean, jovial
Image: ©2014 Brenda Bishop Blakey
10 thoughts on “Spring Yield”
I think I would like to meet summer..she sounds warm and hearty..this flowed wonderfully..like warm water over the toes..and honeysuckle..would love to smell that again!
Ahh, Jaerose, sending you some honeysuckles by return mail. 🙂
What a delight to read this piece. Exploring nature in all its fecundity is an unmatched pleasure. You captured that feeling so well.
Appreciate your comment, oldegg, thanks for reading.
Ah I’m not ready for summer just yet but I know must yield to her. Did excellent job with this one
Thank you for reading, Cathy. Yep, summer is almost here.
I too like the flow of summer in your poem and reality. You painted a gorgeous landscape with these words.
Elizabeth, thank you for stopping by.
Oh, those last two lines are so delightful! They roll right off the tongue so pleasurably! (I almost always read poems aloud.) Thank you.
Thanks, MMTeacher, I was pushing for the sonnet and just barely pulled it off. 🙂