Thursday, April 25, 2019

Spring (Giuseppe Arcimboldo), Sonnet #454

My book of the first 200 of these sonnets is now available for purchase. Click here:
My Human Disguise.


















The vernal air smells first of earth,
Healthy rot freed of snow and frost,
A renewal not without cost
In drowned worms and corruption’s worth.
But that’s when the wind and clouds still
Suppress urgency with a chill.
Even then magnolias bud,
Crocuses and snowdrops peek
Through the dirt, while a foggy scud
Carries off the unwholesome reek.
A day passes, the sunlight blooms,
Igniting our backyard bowers.
Trailing uncountable perfumes,
A lady’s dressed just in flowers.