Natural World Tapestry

Was it in the fragrance of the grapefruit mint
that brushed against my red blush cheeks,
or those lilac petal chains on
moss-strewn pathways,
was it in those rays that dance
sequentially across some green flake grecian urn,
or the tearful noonday noodle from a seagull’s
stricken cry,
or that scarlet robin roosting on a grey
grain granite wall?
For whatever reason nature’s vivid ministry
appears in locust swarms,
that flag on aural stimuli to whet one’s dormant vision.
Suddenly the golden brook within my compass 
bares its fountain,
each moonstone mountain peak its beacon light,
the twig on every tree an olive branch
with verdant august wellspring at its cusp.
A sprouting plant silver trophy arcade
in a centrifugal aliment.
But now spring  morning buds elect  to boldly ripen
this stubborn winter phase indigo drought,
while sweet blackberries tantalise prosaic hawthorn relish.
A residue of cold snap iridescence that  
eludes diurnal  tides will shortly vapourise environmental
woe.

Top four placement in Poetry Soup contest.
A featured poem on Poetry Soup March 13th to
March 20th year 2022