Poetry Friday - Is It Spring Yet?

I failed to post a poetry stretch this week. Suffice it to say that a snow day on St. Patrick's day in VIRGINIA took me by surprise.

It still doesn't look like spring yet. I so hope it gets here before we head straight on into summer. Here's a little Emily Dickinson to usher in the season.

Dear March, come in!
How glad I am!
I looked for you before.
Put down your hat—
You must have walked—      
How out of breath you are!
Dear March, how are you?
And the rest?
Did you leave Nature well?
Oh, March, come right upstairs with me,      
I have so much to tell!

I got your letter, and the bird’s;
The maples never knew
That you were coming,—I declare,
How red their faces grew!      
But, March, forgive me—
And all those hills
You left for me to hue;
There was no purple suitable,
You took it all with you.      

Who knocks? That April!
Lock the door!
I will not be pursued!
He stayed away a year, to call
When I am occupied.      
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come,
That blame is just as dear as praise
And praise as mere as blame.


Do check out all the wonderful poetic things being shared and collected today by Julie Larios at The Drift Record. Happy poetry Friday friends.