OK..ok.i know this isn't a poem..it's a free writting i did at my local community college with a writting group. Pick a season they said..and write about it for 10 minutes. Well..Seeing as it was Spring...Guess What..I wrote about it. *grin* kinda shows my inner child
Ritual of Spring
After cold cold days the sun finally shines and extatically i head out to frolic in the new season. Gone are the scarves, boots and other apparel of windter. Clad in shorts and a t-shirt I tip-toe barefoot through the new grass. With child-like abandon I twirl around, imitating the falling leaves of 2 seasons ago, and cast myself down, exuberant into a sea of soft flowering clover. From my Spring bed I experience the warm sun. Relaxing as the rays run its caressing tendrils all over my winter paled skin. Absorbing the cool electricity of life as it zips across the ground I lay on. It goes coursing through my veins running around, tingling, prickling my nerves and teasing my senses. A breeze sweeps across the earth carrying with it the crisp smell of fresh cut onion grass, the laughter of a child and the flutter of a kite. I open my eyes and watch a fluffy white pig float by, Slowly it becomes at airplane, then an ice cream cone. This ever changing sky picture keeps me enchanted until a newly emerged butterfly, tired from its ordeal, lands on the tip of my nose. Grinning I go cross-eyed to watch it. Up and down it's wings slowly flap, antennae keeping watch all around. I blow a small puff of air under it and away it flies. I too leave my place, with one last deep breath. Go on with my day revived by this Ritual of Spring.




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