The Fourteen Spears of Spring


As child, I wandered ways like these

And marvelled at the grace and ease

With which these tiny spears of Spring

Could rise and shake off Winter’s cling.

A wiser self smiles back at him

Who knew not these were Alpine kin

Which lived for cold and days like these

That mirrored mountains’ solid freeze.

But does this change the greeting bright

When muddied boots trail freezing night?

Not one jot! Young soul replies

from depths of Self that love surprise.

©Copyright Stephen Tanham 2017

7 Replies to “The Fourteen Spears of Spring”

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