CHERRY BLOSSOM TIME
Posted: Thu Jul 17, 2025 12:13 pm
CHERRY BLOSSOM TIME ... Maureen Clifford The #ScribblyBarkPoet
Cherry Blossoms bloom in contrast to dark pines against the sky.
Like flouncing petticoats they froth, white, red and pink.
A vision splendid they appear to jaded western eyes.
To their beauty one should raise a glass and drink.
There is a simple bamboo bench that just begs one - come and sit
and note reflections in the lakes cool glassy stare.
A rhythmic clack from near the water – the Shishi Odoshi song
though today it seems there are no deer to scare.
Then a heron white and elegant glides by as herons do
and he lands beside a sweetly running stream,
where the rushing sparkling waters travel on without a care
and in the peacefulness, there's time to rest and dream.
A path meanders nonchalant across a wooden bridge,
over water where some Mandarin ducks glide.
Widening ripples in the water slowly lap against the banks,
getting smaller, smaller, smaller - then subside.
Above festooned in blossoms white, I hear a small bird sing
his sweet aria suspended on the air.
Softly on gentle breezes one can hear temple bells ring
calling the faithful. Now is the time for prayer.
On the bank beside the stream an artist sits to contemplate
with easel and oils and paper at the ready.
As she surveys so much beauty what will tempt her palette -
will her choice be good and will her hand be steady?
My choice would be the Cherry blossoms, contrasting with dark pines.
Flouncing and frothing - in colours soft. White, red and pink.
A vision splendid they appear to our jaded western eyes.
I toast the Cherry Blossom of Japan, and drink.
Kampai!
Cherry Blossoms bloom in contrast to dark pines against the sky.
Like flouncing petticoats they froth, white, red and pink.
A vision splendid they appear to jaded western eyes.
To their beauty one should raise a glass and drink.
There is a simple bamboo bench that just begs one - come and sit
and note reflections in the lakes cool glassy stare.
A rhythmic clack from near the water – the Shishi Odoshi song
though today it seems there are no deer to scare.
Then a heron white and elegant glides by as herons do
and he lands beside a sweetly running stream,
where the rushing sparkling waters travel on without a care
and in the peacefulness, there's time to rest and dream.
A path meanders nonchalant across a wooden bridge,
over water where some Mandarin ducks glide.
Widening ripples in the water slowly lap against the banks,
getting smaller, smaller, smaller - then subside.
Above festooned in blossoms white, I hear a small bird sing
his sweet aria suspended on the air.
Softly on gentle breezes one can hear temple bells ring
calling the faithful. Now is the time for prayer.
On the bank beside the stream an artist sits to contemplate
with easel and oils and paper at the ready.
As she surveys so much beauty what will tempt her palette -
will her choice be good and will her hand be steady?
My choice would be the Cherry blossoms, contrasting with dark pines.
Flouncing and frothing - in colours soft. White, red and pink.
A vision splendid they appear to our jaded western eyes.
I toast the Cherry Blossom of Japan, and drink.
Kampai!