spriiiiiing!

pop goes the easel
all the artists in heaven and earth
have been sprung from the
winter of their discontent
into the vast
where there is no content
but contentment ~
the daffs have gone daffy
with the yellow unknown to the gods of colour
maybe van gogh had an inkling
a twitch in his ear about
the sound that yellow bellows..
the cloud sky of rain one instant
bursts of sunrays the very next
the chill moving down the railway line
cold now bolder
the breeze of boisterious bliss
the warmth, where did that come from?
shopping for shoes that have no toes
for chicks and bunnies that coo
to our childish hearts
the starts of fresh buds
that pop
goes the easel
into spring begin
again