Forty-four hours
(like Saturday’s pocket-money)
in frivolity 
painting multiple towns
red to purple
(then black & blue)
& squinting at the harsh light
outside the pall of plastic plane.

In two days, 
autumn turns to spring
and we spend a glorious month
in mad meanderings
watching flowers open
and cavorting with our youth.

Too soon
(it seems)
we drag our heels home,
back through summer’s folly
to fall,
discovering the brown earth
has devoured the veld
& there’s dust on our shoes.


I look forward each year to April when I spend each day (in honour of Poetry Month) scribbling verse.

I foolishly committed myself this year, knowing that I’d be traveling the face of the planet (and continuing my daily march through scripture). I reluctantly relinquished my dream on Day Two of GloPoWriMo (Global Poetry Writing Month). However, unwilling to release the challenge and the fun, I decided to play, albeit when I can.  So from time-to-time I’ll resurrect the April challenges and extend the GloPoWriMo dance throughout the year. 😊❤️