New Unfinished Spring Stanzas

speak softly to me Springtime
your words upon the sweetest wind
that I may take those whispers
and in them fair poetry find
to seduce from sighing boughs
a verse to bless the trees
speak softly on the breeze Springtime
reveal your songs to me.

speak gently to me April
that in each drop of rain
I hear the sounds of ballads
with fresh ayrs in refrains
that I may from the clouds become
a minstrel of the sky
to play each note of showered muse
into the heaven’s high.

Painting Rain

a sorrowful new dawn descends
in rainstorms painted by the night
which in their darkened shades do render
glassy shadows to the light.

no watercoloured dreams are these
its strokes are bold and without guile
and draughted with such cold unease
ill comfort in both form and style.

so paints the rain in this last spring
yet soon an artist young awakes
with pastel palette colours singing
for when summer’s first morning breaks.