Johnnys

The morning is heavy, pregnant with spring.

Dew sparkles on the new blades stretched in mass,

Testing their new-found strength; in shouts of green

They greet the rose-soft sunrise, raise their glass,

Salute their warm savior with verve and sass.

“Hello!” shout the iris, waving blue heads.

“Hello!” shout the glads, white, pink, and red.

Near the barn, johnny-jump-ups perk their ears,

Wonder why the fuss from their vain cousins.

After all, from early March they’ve been here,

Yellow and purple, dozens and dozens,

Popping up while the ground is yet frozen.

Johnny’s are trailblazers, fearless and bold.

What’s the big deal about a little cold?

©2021 KT Workman

(Rhyme Royal–7-line stanzas, usually iambic pentameter. Rhyme scheme: a-b-a-b-b-c-c)

Image by Couleur from Pixabay

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