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?