Poem Category: Spring

Her pink nursery …
opening in the garden
tender new buds.

I find they glow more
at twilight
the white roses.

Sensing home
pigeons together
through the storm.

Sleep that won’t
listening to the roof
creak with wind.

Beach party
waves still rolling in
from the stars.

Dots in the dawn
pelican following pelican
to the clear blue lake.

Grey dawn
so heavy the fog drains
out of tulip cups.

ploughing home
a windjammer
spray after spray.

Flipping
through travel brochures
the bus-stop winds.

Drenched mail-box
a snail slimes
even the hand-written.