Cyan blue sky, kissed
with clouds of Angel´s breath,
God´s strewn gems,
of plumed flocks returning home,
Ready for love games,
released now from winter´s death,
Bud-headed blooms,
shot straight from dark silted loam.
Firework flowers,
exploding upon balmy awaiting world,
All Splattering floral
graffiti, upon kerbs & concrete walls,
Emerald fringed leaves
& tendrils, so creepingly unfurled,
Spanish primavera
waltzing, through joy bedecked halls.
Operatic bird song,
serenading in trilling love-lorn tunes,
Summoning pretty hens,
dressed in springtime plumes,
Primavera weaving
magic, with help of ancient moons,
Air now heady, with
the uncorking of Gaia´s perfumes.
Soft petals, leaves & feathers, all dancing
& pristine new,
All daubed by nature´s
paintbrush, in God´s invented hues,
Tripping through floral
fields, inviting me to skip & sing,
Primavera, my primavera,
I love you my Spanish spring.
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