I like form in poetry and was talking about various poetry forms, at one of the writing groups that I attend. We discussed Huitains, so here’s one of mine, written a few years ago (!) a cheery little number.

Spring

Banish the blues with a red touch,
blend them purple for tomorrow,
boys and clinker don’t mean too much
warm debris for the wheelbarrow.
Pigeons perch on the old scarecrow,
who imagines lilacs in spring,
they watch the boy make a furrow
and prepare for life on the wing.

Polly Stretton © 2013