Tuesday, September 20, 2011

The Weeping Cherry

The Weeping Cherry

Once more she is a Spring princess
in her gown of bridal white
cascading delight from top to toe

and she astounds in her audacity
yet each year I am enthralled to see
such self effacing dignity

and now the bees at ease come a courting
with simple courtesy and each flower
will open
to each whispered suggestion
of consummate honey













the princess bride weeps not for sadness
but in pure sweet joy when each year
finds her beauty reborn. 

Mother danced in the hive of love,
so she said
a bridal princess amongst the troops
gaiety, nylons and cigarettes

never the same one twice she laughs
then winks significantly,
those were the days hey
now look at me, I'm eighty three,
what happened? God almighty!

Once more she is a Spring princess
in her gown of bridal white
cascading delight from top to toe

in movement and symmetry
aligning the earth to planetary
purpose
to the heavenly tap tap tap
perhaps perhaps

And what music plays to this courtly season?
The skeletal tinkling of water on stone...
or perhaps an eternal elemental drone?
The melancholic mystery of the duduk call
or Glen Millers' swing... hey...
the Wood-choppers Ball?



















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