Impending Bloom

It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot
and the wind blows cold: when it is summer in the light
and winter in the shade.  Charles Dickens

The lion leads,  all bluster and roar
behind bared fangs.
From somewhere  a warm breeze
too playful to be afraid
rubs the tummy  of the wild beast
and before you know it

lion-turned-lamb  gambols over the lea
scattering sun rays.
Even in the shade  we see summer.
Awed by Spring
we emerge,
Innocents
with great expectations.

The Lady with the Lamp

In the absence of home
they are here
with hope in their hearts,
their hearts on their sleeves.

The Lady with the Lamp
welcomes them.  Far
from the reach of her light
they dream of touching her hem.

They dream…

They are the tired, the poor,
the huddled masses. I ask you
Who among us would deny them
these promises?

“Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free,
the wretched refuse of your teeming shore. Send these, the homeless, tempest-
tossed to me, I lift my lamp beside the golden door!”