“And after April, when May follows,
And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows!”
Robert Browning ~ “Home-thoughts, from abroad”
And after May...but I wish for a never after holding fast as Faust to that month's moments when quiet lanes foam at the mouth with birdsong froth-full of petal and wild chervil Such an eruption of aqua vitae! Pouring though every pore of earth and in one rush of landscaping, readily spreads like the ingénue's awkward blush It is green loitering on the brink of solstice neither tenderfoot nor a mature and motherly shade - but really there are no words this side of purple lest we tangle in hyperbole around the Maypole Call me melancholic if you will. For when the budding month is set to swell bursting in a boisterous cannonade of confetti days I flag the voyaging vessel with signals of distress June comes now, spring-heeled and hot on the scent of an all-too-soon, consummated summer. Yet spin we must, in synchrony with time and motion or forfeit the chance of heaven
Re-working a past draft poem, timely for this time of year and also Open Link Night @dVerse, where unprompted anything goes
PoetryPix 
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