Makers

Contagious in spring, this desire

to create. The soul leaps like lambs

across greeny meadow and perches

on rock to sun, lullabied by rose leaves

and nesting birds, invisibly working

on breath, pulse, song.

 

 

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4 thoughts on “Makers

  1. “…lullabied by rose leaves

    and nesting birds,invisibly working

    on breath, pulse, song.”

    I do love these gently flowing verses… wonderful poem Jennifer!

    Merci,

    Bien amicalement, Frédéric

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  2. Wonderful word choices–for some reason, I really liked “greeny meadow”; it’s how a kid would say it, maybe, which goes with the theme of new births–wonderful!

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    1. Aw, thanks. The meadows I was thinking of (in Scotland) were more than green…they were definitely “greeny.”

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