Ruby red, you rise!
Emerging like a young, nubile burlesque dancer
From your long Winter’s nap
Unfurling from Earth’s musty, mulch covered lap.
Last Autumn you shed your frippery and retreated
into a cold, damp ground of dreams
Nestling quietly inside the Garden greenroom.
November and December,
Under blankets of frost,
You didn’t freeze
You didn’t go numb
No, not you,
You dove a bit deeper
You stretched your limbs
Your tendrils and roots
Tucked ‘them round your precocious flame
Putting the cold to bitter shame.
January and February
you bravely withstood
The Necessary chill.
All throughout March
You dove deeper still.
Then, the greatest stage Mother of them all
Began nudging you through the dark hall
Much to this viewers delight
out, out…ever so gingerly
toward the spotlight.
And Today, the First of April,
You Woke
Emerging in full sun
With such astonishing color and glory
It’s difficult to fathom
How you, at this moment, so demure, so coy
Will burst and bloom…
But Wait! Not yet!
You’re not fully formed!
All throughout May
You must continue to rehearse and cultivate
Your acidulous (t)art and robust taste.
Then, come, Summer,
Not a moment too soon
Nor a moment too late
You will fan forth
Making your entrance
Revealing your resplendent story.
Touching and astonishing
Both eyes and tongue
With a full-grown sensation
That will be relished, savored
Yes, even adored.
Come June, my pretty, you will take the stage by storm.
Come June, my dear, you will brazenly arrive.
Come June, sweetheart, you will star in pasties and pies.
©catherineglynn 2020
letters to the world 