A poem for spring
The sky looks bruised today.
The yard is a smattering of winter-gold and fresh spring-green.
The Bartlett Pears are blooming
And the other deciduous trees are budding out new leaves.
Herbs are poking their fresh faces out from beneath the soil in which they have hidden for months.
At night, the air is alive with the peepers and the calls of the whippoorwill.
The crickets are starting to return as well.
The dandelions and daffodils peek their yellow heads out,
Nodding in the breeze.
Carefully cultivated pansies make their appearance, as well.
I breathe in deeply, filling my body with the scents and sounds of Spring.
New life is starting, stirring all around me.
And I can't help but join it.
I can't help but smile and laugh and dream of tomorrow while enjoying today.
The yard is a smattering of winter-gold and fresh spring-green.
The Bartlett Pears are blooming
And the other deciduous trees are budding out new leaves.
Herbs are poking their fresh faces out from beneath the soil in which they have hidden for months.
At night, the air is alive with the peepers and the calls of the whippoorwill.
The crickets are starting to return as well.
The dandelions and daffodils peek their yellow heads out,
Nodding in the breeze.
Carefully cultivated pansies make their appearance, as well.
I breathe in deeply, filling my body with the scents and sounds of Spring.
New life is starting, stirring all around me.
And I can't help but join it.
I can't help but smile and laugh and dream of tomorrow while enjoying today.