Spring: The gentle waking up
of hyacinth and buttercup.
The tiny crocus lift their heads
from their cover in flower beds.
The pittering pattering drops of rain
wash winter's doldrums down the drain.
All is fresh and clean and new
beneath a sky of sparkling blue.
The smell of lilacs fill the air
as butterflies flit here and there.
I see a robin on the wing
and hear a wild canary sing.
Yesterday was gloomy and dark,
today I wake to the song of a lark,
and to the renewal of hope and joy
for every aged girl and boy.
I've witness fifty springs and more,
and each reopens that magic door.
Entering I find my youth restored
and aches and pains of age ignored.
The sights and sounds and smells of spring
cause hearts both young and old to sing.
It seems the years just melt away
and I feel I'm sweet sixteen today.
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