Spring rain
The rain falls on
the marshes,
so fine and
steady, mild and soft,
a rain that’s grey
with growing,
a dew of life,
that from aloft
towards earth’s
heart is streaming
Like crystal
pearls so tiny
within marsh
marigolds’ embrace
the droplets’
glossy moisture,
and blackthorn
leaves with coated glaze
midst snow-white
buds are gleaming.
The yellow grass,
the fragile,
the silky brown
stems of the reeds
are silently
aquiver,
and cobwebs’
silver veils like beads
twine round the
blades now greening.
The rain falls on
the marshes,
the day so quietly
moves along,
a single small
bird’s cheeping
and now it chirps
its springtime song
while down the
rain is streaming.
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