Waiting

Despite the calendar, a chill remains

Azaleas seem only to bloom with regret

Their thoughts a bit like mine I’d bet

Something is lost amid the steady rains.

The overdue season, by far the favorite of most,

Spring shuffles in this time, not bursting forth

Recalling wintry blasts out of the North,

Arriving weekly those polar waves did boast.

Winter’s power foretold a sense of loss and more,

Sending forth a chilling icy regret

Where once stood warmth and yet

We know Spring’s always come before   

So hope stands firm, awaiting all the while

The return of poetry, delight and laughter,

Catching your breath the moment after,
And, most of all, that summery, sunlit smile.