April again, and this hedge,
a tangle of sticks and string
for so long, finds green
optimism, pulled like a
silk hanky from its sleeve.
It’s the breath of seasons,
drawing in, holding, daring
to show delicate green,
swelling in swagger for summer,
till autumn’s tipping point
of panic at overstepping
an imagined Plimsoll line.
Disown these brash displays!
Pull in the sails, suck
life back to the marrow,
present a hard shell,
shelter tender feelings
through another winter.
April again, so long
holding my breath, can I
allow budding love
its surging green confidence?
see also Shyness
Pieces of Five 
Dear Five, you are such a good poet, i hope you are making a book, even if you have to publish it yourself. Be lovely to have a collection. Hope you are noth really well. I might possibly be beginning to relax! Love to you and herself. XxxxGrizelda
Sent from Yahoo Mail on Android
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Thank you, that encourages me to get a book together – I did enjoy your books!
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