Spring: the beginnings

Sweet things

that begin the spring.

Shyly peeping,

slowly creeping,

from within.

Purple frocks

and yellow hues,

lilac wings

and golden shoes

catching humans unawares,

still laidened down with winter cares.

And what a great delight they bring,

their bobbing heads, their signs of spring.

The pretty, gentle, quiet ways

they soften hearts and lighten days.

They sit in place, between…betwixt,

where nothing’s set and nothing’s fixed.

And slowly they begin to grow

as brave young soldiers, row by row.

Fighting through the frozen soil

their modest patterns do uncoil,

and as the season starts to shift

they come with ever brighter gifts.

So please do thank these pioneers,

these ones who soak up winters tears,

for they play a very noble part

in warming through our frosty hearts,

and on their tiny flowered wings

we’re led into the arms of spring.

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1 Response to Spring: the beginnings

  1. The poem is lovely. Very apt at the present time. Thank you and thank the flowers.

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