WILDFLOWERS

Wildflowers

The flowers that spew

Across a barren hill

And shove their heads

Out of rock and cranny

And from beneath bush top

That fling their heads

Every which way

And dress mountain slopes

In petaled gowns

And allow meadows to wear

Bonnets in their hair

Company

Green green

the green threaded hills

Overhead a blue sky

Fluffy white clouds

roam on by

Daffodils raise

their heads

to the sun

Birds chirp

in cypress tree

All a wellspring

of life flow

In nature’s company

Meadowlarks Song

Hear a meadow lark sing

See spring’s flowers

pop their heads up

to touch the sun

The brook that knows no end

Gurgles and splashes

delightfully

And a butterfly, black velvet

trimmed in tangerine

flutters by nonchalantly

Beneath the blue sky

so high and free

See dandelions

and buttercups

And feel the warm

spring breeze passing by

Catch the sun

the meadowlarks cry

Frances Leitch has spun tales of life and the sea, desert, and wild spaces since youth. In years of writing, she’s published much poetry and articles. She most enjoys writing poetry that passes on nature’s wonder and pockets a bit of the sun.