Today’s challenge at Real Toads is to examine whether or not April is the cruelest month in 66 words or less.

goat kid

April morning starts with
dead brown grass,
last summer’s remains,
blanketing barren ground.
waiting.  waiting.
while brilliant sunshine
teases with chilling winds;
frosty mornings freeze
new life trying to begin.
waiting.  waiting.
for rain renewed life,
the green of living again,
fodder for new babies
and budding poets
beside maple trees;
leaves bursting forth;
flowers peeking from earth,
but for now we are
waiting.  waiting.  waiting.




I cannot believe how quickly time flies.  It’s already time for open links at Real Toads and d’Verse Poets.  Be sure to visit for some amazing poetry.

Spinning, spinning twirling around

faster, faster around I go

until dizzy I fall to the ground.

Waiting, waiting for someone

to come along and pick me up.

Crumpled in a heap, alone I wait.

No knight in shining armor.

No parent with loving arms.

Alone I wait until I look within.

There I find the one I’ve waited for-

no outside person, only me.

I find the strength to pick myself up

and firm I stand on shaky ground

as the world keeps on spinning around.