It Sings of Spring
poetic scribble by Bob Axell 2009

 

The murlocks call, lingual summer whispers
A turbines tall, stings in symbols glistens
The snow on the ground, the sunlight through our wall
Are we who we seek to be, when the light we seldom see

Sinks down through the clear blue sky and up behind the pine
The snow that sparkles through the darkness winter world of mine
It climbs upon the sky come morning, marks the spawn of this new day
The winter wisdom rises yawning, seeks me out endrawn like clay

Tears me in the freedom beating
Seldom found within my soul
White bright havoc fondly fleeting
Filling tremour, riling hole

I see the frisk I seek to flee
I feel sleek inside and reek of me
Strive to linger the streaks to be
Shout my lungs out, healing, free