For the Secret Keeper’s writing prompt. This week’s words:
DIG | EQUAL | DEAR | WHITE | RUSE
Roots dig deep into the dark,
Branches spread beneath the light
And spring winds blow, now warm now chill
Through budding trees where winter still
Would cast cold night.
A pale sun shines to coax the sap
That rises from the deep, dark roots
And bursts in white foam like the snow
That will not melt.
Though unfurled petals take the hues
Of gaudy, garish sunset skies,
No spring sight is as dear to me
As the snow-white blossom of an apple tree.