I wonder. Is there anyone still visiting this blog? I have my doubts, since not even I have been here since last August, 2012. Hard to believe I've been absent so long, negligent so long! I have been remiss, to say the least. I repent!
Much ado has passed since last I scribbled herein.
Two seasons have gone, now Spring's blooms begin.
O'er glen and dale my eyes follow,
Looking for the flight of the northbound swallow.
Harbingers of Spring are gleefully rushing,
Black squirrels in the Bur Oak, for nest, leaves crushing.
A white eye glances, Grackles are wincing,
My every move, word and motion fearfully convincing.
Then thoughts turn to fungi pushing through humus.
Morel-ian, epicurean, Chanterelle-ian, goodness.
An exodus made, gastronomical parade,
To spaces green, lush, and growing - a glade.
Buckets in hand, tramping along,
Whistling, foraging, singing a song,
I and companions to the woods do we take,
Out of the confines, to the edge of the Lake.
From vineyard and suburb, to forest we turn,
For a moment, perhaps an hour, creature comforts we spurn.
And all for the chance to gather for pleasure,
To eat to the full of Spring's pleasant treasures.
Copyright 2013 Frank J. McAvinchey
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Posts
No comments:
Post a Comment