A Sonnet in a Hurry!

And why should any sonnet be in a hurry? This one is because it's set in April and there are only seven days left.

Written by Odysseuse:

The first shy violets of April thrust
their singing hues up through decaying snow,
denying winter's hold and dying gust
with tranquil scent and sweet cerulean glow.
In hives, reluctant bumbling bees begin
to rumble, buzz, and consultate, then flee
the comb in clouds to nominate their queen
and cleave with death in winging ecstacy.
Upon a branch yet bare of bud or leaf,
a bluebird late returned from southern shores
swell-throated sings his soul's sincere belief
in spring; with love his song to heaven soars.

And I, observing, feel myself emerge
from ice to warm and eager vernal urge.

I don't know in what form this will be published, but I assure you it is a fourteen line poem of twelve lines and a couplet.

The next post will reveal a bit about Odysseuse.