I awake this morning,
Far into spring,
To see that in
The softest light of day,
You have danced
Without worry
Upon the creeping mosses of my garden.
Danced,
As some Good Folk do,
Leaving the gentle wild in your wake.
The dandelions about my feet
Hold tenderly this golden hour.
Each of them a wonder
All its own.
How my home
Does now glitter with it.
I stare into their brilliance
And see upon the rays
A gentle hope.
Without worry.
They whisper in sunlight
And it is dazzling.
They sing to me stories
Of so fantastic a place,
That I,
Enraptured,
Can do naught but willingly go.
– Essie Parker Walsh
Tag: spring
April Showers.
Spring celebrates itself each April,
And each April,
I amble through this spectacle of new life in awe of it’s daring.
A cool wind blows the delicate pink blossoms from the trees.
It carries on the breeze,
And skips down the road.
From the bridge it rains down into the river,
And dances atop the surface of a new world.
The gentle chaos of spring seeps into my skin
And I could weep at my own strength in this moment.
– Essie Parker Walsh
A Promise Always Kept.
The sun was today a god of old
Painted in light and singing of good harvest.
He tore across the sky in his chariot,
The end of winter grasping at the harmony of his rays.
A pursuit eternal.
Winter falls behind today,
And so I shall join the chorus.
– Essie Parker Walsh
Essie P.W 