The Buds of March

While spring cleaning today, I found some poems that I wrote in college. After reading them, I decided that I would post some in my blog.

The first poem is one of my favorites. I wrote this while waiting for my Southern Literature class to begin. It was the begining of March in my Junior year of college, and my class meet on the fourth floor of the Humanities building. Glaring out the window in a fit of boredom, I realized that one of the tall trees in the beautifully landscaped gardens surrounding the building, had little white and green buds grown from the limbs. Since winter is my least favorite season, the first signs of spring make me excited. Also, remember that this poem was written when daylight savings time began in April, so the days during March were still relatively short. Combining my love of learning with my love for spring, I wrote this poem.



The Buds Of March

What right have the buds of March
to hold so high a seat?
April has not soothed their parch
and absent is May's heat.

These tiny buds may quickly fall
by Mother Nature's breath!
Swept off their limbs on trees so tall
to meet with ground their death.

A psuedoconfidence they hold;
they have such short daylight.
Never will they be flowers bold,
for plants don't grow at night.

Ignorance is all that March can give,
for buds need more than trees to live.