The Garden: A Sonnet

The Garden: A Sonnet

Whilst worms writhe through the black and cold damp earth,
The trees they lift bare branches to the sky,
And as the bulbs wake from their Winter de’ath,
A blackbird calls his charming springtime cry.
The grapevine’s dead wood rests beside the fence,
Yet grass grows green as forests packed with pines.
I scatter poppy seeds; the wait is tense
And spinach sewn down neatly in straight lines.
I envy other’s hardy Winter crops –
Their smart lawns which are so expertly cut,
Their daffodils do make for fine backdrops,
And sturdy sheds with secure roofing but
On this land where another’s treasures grew –
I’ll build my tiny empire fresh and new.


14 Lines
Form: Sonnet
Written for "Invalid Item" 
Prompt: Write a poem welcoming Spring