Spring Maiden

What a rapturous mid-morning
of springtime,
she is a maiden of new life.
She flirts with poets with her
cobalt-blue sky,
her tresses are honeysuckle,
lovers entwined in her queenly
fragrant gardens,
yet, she feels no envy,
as she is courted by
the basking sun.

She charms my senses with
lilacs and daffodils,
her songbirds sing of April's
arrival after wintry gray.
A warm sun-shower as
children are dressed in their
Sunday pastels,
helping their mother
tend to the young blooming
tulips and pansies,
as robins brood on their
deep blue eggs.

Bumblebees lazily land on
dandelions.
Although my youth was
long ago, momentarily
in a heavenly daydream,
I'm sixteen again,
when my only care was
having spring fever,
as the end of leonine
winds of March waned
in melting remnants
of snow. ~