yellow

Autumn’s clock

In the wheel of Earth’s years
we watch as Autumn’s clock

Tick-tocks in tiny goldenrod
September petal’d seconds

Frosty trees bleed scarlet hours
through veins of October leaves

Amber minutes wither and fall
drifting in November’s breeze

And the silent strike of midwinter
turns December’s snowflake gears

Terri Guillemets

Spring is so —

Spring is so damn pink!
O yes, it’s vibrantly green
and greenly vibrant too—
reds burst, oranges blaze
yellows beam like the sun
violet dazzles vivid delight
blue paints the entire sky—
but the thing that thrills
my soul the most is that
Spring is so damn pink!

Terri Guillemets

Poetry of spring

Springtime is a poet —
the blue sky its blank page
so vibrant green in rhyme
a different metre for every clime
birds chirping to keep the time
wildflowers yellow, red, purple divine
words dancing on tall blades of grasses
sparkling in the morning dews
no commas the flow keeps buzzing
vernal dashes & blossoming branches
on newly greening verdant trees
refrains whispering in each breeze
butterflies — floating apostrophes
ladybugs dot floral question marks
blissful bees stray stanza to stanza
seeds disperse from verse to verse
continuing a poem that’s never ended
and into summer’s colors is blended

Terri Guillemets

Jovial vernal verse

Spring is the green
      is the peace
      is the breeze
      and the blossoms
      and the blues
      past the buds
      to the pinks
      on the brink
      and the warmth
      and the warbles
      and the weeds
      all the yellows
      and the bees
      and the buzzing
      living branches
      and the grasses
      and the gardens
      and the growing
      and the blowing
      of the pollens
      oh! the purples
      and the chirples
      of the birds
      and the beauty
      and the butterflies
      in the skies
      and the sun—
Springtime’s fun!

Terri Guillemets