The month of April was unusual, say the Southern Swedish locals. No rain but a five minute mist one day. The Rapeseed flowers bloomed early, with barely the fragrance they usually carry into the breeze.
People were already sunbathing, gardening, having picnics and barbeques--but then I've told you that, already.
April was also poetry month. A friend and I participated in the Writer's Digest Poetic Asides blog challenge to write a poem a day from the prompts given by Robert Lee Brewer. Then we ran out of April.
We ran out of sun in these parts, too! Never mind that, but the wind is trying to come down the chimneys, through the tiny cracks in the window and door frames and stress my tired brain. I'm amazed that the jackdaws, sparrows, golden great tits, pheasants and rabbits are not at all bothered by this wind, going about their daily routines with as much fervor as usual.
Enough of the other observations. Here is a poem, prompted by threewordwednesday.wordpress.com among the daily prompts my friend and I are using to keep writing something every day.
Wind whipping ‘round
without form or boundary
bends reeds, grasses, trees
flings rain dries it out again
flashes on each pond ripple
maligns the tulips one petal
at a time leaving cryptic
petal messages in the garden