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A Most Fragile Drink of Life's Heady Aromas.

Artist, actor, poet, teacher, songwriter & actor with 4,000 poems & almost 1,000 songs written, performed recorded & published on line.

Don't just hibernate come March 21st, Spring into the new season and enjoy all that it holds for you.

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You will only get 80 of these if you are lucky so go out and enjoy each day of spring.


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A Most Fragile Drink.

The golden chalice stretches skyward seeking to catch the precious nectar of morning dew. It is the first daffodil of spring and it graces the path beside my house trumpeting all the joy to come. Soon tulips will rise beside them to also claim their most fragile drinks. rainwater captured in their delicate cups to feed their leaves and to sustain the yet to be shed seeds that allow each spring beauty to come back around next year. they stand in a long line in a parade of colors brightening my drab garage ><<><><><><>>< As winter croaks its last cold howl spring crocuses gently bow in lavender and pale yellow skirts swirling upside down in the warm sunny breeze. <><><><><><><><><><><> The sugary, sweet smell of fresh cut grass is always a reminder of the perfumes of this season, as endless two stroke engines perform the beautification of their wild growth. tiny vreatures and insects flee from the paths of John’s that are anything but Deere and soon the trees long barren will remember their splendid fall colors as they bud and then turn green with envy at the patchwork of colors below them ><><><><><><><><><><>< I long for a kite, to send my own burst of color in flight a blend of yellow and red against the vast sky blue above a paper sail like when I was young a tether to the heavens that lifts my spirits and sends them spiraling in joyous circles much like the devils paintbrush not yet bloomed. When was the last time] you flew a kite allowing your own flight of fancy to pull you on the whims of a spring breeze <><><><><><><><><><>< I used to love to tie helium balloons around a kite string and send up a rainbow of colors to the skies. it was so much easier to launch but of course it was a lot harder to pull back down. ><><><><><><><><><><><>< But I am older now and my neighbors might be slightly worried about my state of mind standing tethered to a child’s toy. my own boy all grown up as well so I settle the firm flesh colored, half balloons of my buttocks into a hammock and pop open a Bud light as I savor the tastes of refreshing barley and hops from another growing season long gone. ><><><><><><><><><><>< I am much like the pale, green buds that pop open all around me as their thirsty shoots reach skyward in hopes of spring rains. ><><><><><><><><><>< Mayflies dance on the warm currents pirouetting and then mating their lives brief and so busy yet they have no worries about their brevity they simply enjoy the rush of their short lives granted when they hatched. we should all mimic the mayflies and enjoy our own short time on this marvelous planet without being burdened by what’s to come ><><><><><><><><>< Soon enough I close my eyes and dream becoming part of an idyllic scene, just another blur of color blending into what was once so drab to all the cars that whiz by just a half acre away on a incredible Mayday that holds no cry for help but rather a sigh of sheer relief from my long snow bound brain I delight as I fall into an afternoon nap at the birds singing hummingbirds Humming cause they don’t know the words butterflies fluttering bumble bees buzzing daffodils trumpeting near tulips blowing perfumed kisses. a true symphony of nature at its finest. there is nothing that compares to those first days of spring as my snoring joins the cacophony of all of God’s creatures celebrating Springs lovely awakening.

© 2022 Matthew Frederick Blowers III

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