Saturday, May 13, 2017

A Morn in May

A Morn in May-
each year without fail-
I am reminded-
of a poem 
written, well now,
 forty-five years ago.
Well, OK, some years it is late April,
 and some years- early  June.

I can breathe in the fragrance
 of the peonies as if they were yesterday.
 A field washed in bloom......
and the words that captured 
that simple morning.
When you walked without real cares,
even though life seemed complex.
God is still giving out those warm sunwashed,
and yes, rainy days too- 
just so I can stack
 them in memory bank layers
for another year.

A Morn in May
I wander through the open field
Stepping softly, afraid to crush even one
Tiny petal or fragile bud that would yield
Tomorrow's flower. And then the sun
Moves from behind a cloud of cotton
Casting shadows and patterns on the earth.
I stop for a moment, for I'd forgotten
The simple things and their worth.
Each precious blossom, filled with life,
Stretches heavenward, seeking light.
Brilliant hues color the day. 
Leaving forever the trouble and strife
Lost in ageless death and night,
As I recall a morn in May.

For the sake of posterity-
this Sonnet published in:

Doin' our Thing- Norwell High School, Spring 1973

College Poetry Review, National Poetry Press,
Los Angeles, CA. Fall 1974

Anthology of Poetry, Sherman Oaks, CA- March 1975

 "Far to Go", Concordia Jr. College, 
Ann Arbor, Michigan- May 1975

Primatum Yearbook- Concordia Jr. College
Ann Arbor, Michigan. May 1975


  1. Thank you! It makes me think back to May mornings 65 years ago when I would take a child's armful of peonies from my mom's garden to my teachers. Now Mom's peonies bloom in my garden.

    1. I too remember armfuls of peonies---- I don't have that many here in Virginia- but I love the few I get!


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