Wednesday, February 29, 2012

The Annual Crocus Poem

I woke this morning to a long, beautiful, spring-like rain and some lovely silver light. And to the happy knowledge that we had crocuses in a tiny green vase on the kitchen table.

Yes, we spotted our first crocuses yesterday (and the sweet girl found a patch that looked as though they were growing wild/belonging to no one, so I let her pick a few). The first crocus spotting is always cause for deep rejoicing in my soul. It's also cause for a crocus-sized poem. Here's this year's.

Happy leaping today!


Thirty-two crocuses dressed up for spring
are clumped in a chorus and ready to sing.
Their melodies burst from deep inside.
Their golden throats are open wide.

~EMP, 2/28/12



Free Range Anglican said...

Oh I love the poem! I may have to print it up and save it.... put it in a scrapbook or make an unsuspecting child memorize it. It makes me feel all joyous. Thanks.

Beth said...

Glad you liked it! Three times makes it a tradition. If I'd been less lazy, I would have posted links to the last two they are, for your crocus-y enjoyment.

Twenty-two crocuses make my heart sing.
Their small purple cups set the table for spring.

EMP 3/8/11

Dogwood buds, birdsong, and nineteen crocuses.
One wonders, in spring, how anyone focuses.

~EMP, 3/11/10

It's become tradition for me to count the number of crocuses in the first clump I see, and then I use that number in the poem. ;-)