Pale sunlight washed over the rooftops
The bitterness of winter had dragged on
For far too long.
A symphony of birdsong welcomed the day
The fresh smell of damp earth filled the air
Breathing new life.
Leaf buds in the hawthorn bush were fatter
Rows of golden daffodils reflected the sun
Heralding spring.
Happy laughter could be heard from playgrounds
Filling the breeze with instant inspiration
A new place to live.
For all the iron Victorian reproduction
Of street lamps and vibrant hanging baskets
Home seemed far away,
In a terraced house
In a seaside town
In a faded photograph
In childhood memories
In a heart that never grew old.
—–
Written for Poetry Jam
Life From A Park Bench 
lovely movement away from winter into the newness of Spring, enjoyed the transition in your poem
thanks for dropping in to read mine today
Have a Nice Wednesday
much love…
keep that heart young alan…
I love the smell of damp earth….
and here seeming so far from there
gives me a sense of nostalgia as well…
That’s great. Can relate with the last stanza as your worda bring many memories…
The beginning of spring in an ordinary place can be oh so special. Especially in memories.
Beautiful, Alan, especially the closing stanza. A wonderful read!
I love the way you shared your memories. It felt like going through an old photo albums.
I think I can feel spring in your poem, Alan, with leaf buds and daffodils! And I enjoyed the memories shared in the last stanza.
All good things anticipated will all seem far away. Human yearnings keep having life’s goodness on its toes. Wonderful thoughts Alan!
Hank
I love how serenity slowly turns into a sad longing…beautifully done Alan…
Alan,
Loved this poem, as it reminds me of my frequent thoughts back to my birth city of Belfast. Certain things always remind me of growing up there. The Botanical Gardens in particular, especially with its beds of spring flora..Hope is in the air and spring as well!!
Eileen
Could feel the longing and also the season spring in the poem. Beautifully penned!
A lovely poem, I especially like the hanging baskets…the last stanza really pulls the reader in for a view. Thanks for sharing.
All right… I am going to try again. I just whined quite a bit about how your poem put me in mind of how winter seems to have lasted forever in New York City and I’m ready for spring, but something ate my comment. Let’s see if this works…
A lovely poem, Alan. Travelling forward from Winter into Spring, but also backward from maturity to youth made for a lovely study in contrary motion to the same destination.
Nicholas V.