Blossoms (Trembling In The Wind)


The season of blossoms

Drifts quietly in

Like a silken thread

Trembling in the wind

But as the stream

In melting snow

It soon flows

Birdsong dawns

Blushing roses

Faces lifted

To the sun

Shyly revealing

Aching hearts

To the patient

Waiting morn

© Ann Bagnall

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