A celebration in Ottava Rima form |
| The winter drudge has claimed a heavy toll. Now robins trill their joyous song of hope, while daffodils are gilding nearby knoll and morning glories bloom along the slope. Their fragrance wraps itself around my soul. Can winter blahs survive this outburst? Nope! The resurrection washes over me in Mother Nature’s springtime jubilee. Notes on the Ottava Rima form of poetry ▶︎ |