Season's Wonderland

Trembling on the verge of springtime,
airy wisps of fog lift from the ponds,
far-off sound of partridge drumming,
fiddle head ferns uncurl into fronds.

Bright birds venture to the feeder,
dare in our concrete bath to splash,
still dim, dawn sunbeam radiates,
turns the droplets image into flash.

At the edge of civilization,
sounds peepers' chorus in the reeds,
newly hatched duckling or gosling,
in its mother's watchful shelter feeds.

Down the slope of the dewy hillside,
in queue stroll dark babes with hen,
with the mother turkey's,leading,
out of sight, into the wooded glen.

Near the water, by the willows,,
the observant, patient eye may see,
denizens of the woods, green meadows,
glimpse unfolding foliage, flower, tree.

In the portal of the river,
graceful arched neck of the swan,
a tiny clearing, forest undergrowth,
see the wide-eyed wonder of a fawn.

Blessed with the legacy of seasons,
lingering briefly dawn to dawn,
on any day the wonder treats us,
to the new; look quickly, and it's gone.