It’s such an eagerly awaited time,
when Spring presents her latest line, reveals
a hint of fashions waiting to unfold. . .
the surge of blushing curves and pastel swirls
as pirouetting buds uncurl, their wafting
fragrance caught on shirttails of the wind.
With gentle skill, her tucks and frills conceal
the scars of winter’s wounds. I gather cuttings
from my pain-encrusted heart and lay
them out for her to touch. I long to bloom
again, for just a while; to wear the glow
of violet hopes and freshly petalled dreams.