ground may as well be a sponge,
so much rain Saturday, had a hunch,
to build an Ark,
but the strength of an old
promise, made me think twice,
and the small amount
of lumber in the garage, thrice.
"Faith ... would be nice"
I am sure, that voice echoed in my head.
yet today, as I walked and I wondered,
how the air was so sweet and clear,
I saw, the pride of them gathering,
as they prepared to bloom,
the rain had swept the grounds,
of all the ***** germs,
enough rainfall there IT watered the worms,
softening up the dirt,
so the crocus flowers could come out to play.
The leader of the Crocus Band, his name was Stripes
go to instagram, for a view of the leaves behind, spikes,
leaning into his role and a leader, close at hand he,
chooses a humble stance as an example, see?
Be wary of this Crocus,
He may Spring, focused,
Seeing Winter is now bogus,
on the West coast.
His name is Stripes, earning every one.
©DWE032014
look up #crocus, on instagram and #nameisStripes
and there awaits, yet another poem