Suphur Flies
Winter’s hardened case finally breaks
As green spears slice from barren stakes
The cold guardians of heather pink yields
As the lion dandy spills across the fields
Violet burst from tired green banks
Blackbird skips along as though with thanks
That blackthorn buds can at last release
The herald of an expected insect feast
Still doubts say this may be a fake
As one swallow, a summer does not make
For blackthorn may make blossom fast
But it can announce one more icy blast
One thing says that spring has come
To make blackbird sing and woodpecker drum.
Look to buckthorn and hid within
Its cold dark bark and sharpened pin
Not shoot, flower or barb so sharp
But something so quick a flying dart
Like starting flag, it catches the eye
There it is – a Brimstone Butterfly !