Oh, how I long for their return|
With sweet perfume and pastel frills.
Those crowned jewels of Springtime.
Sweet anemone and violet,
Ballet dancing in the breeze.
The lovely swaying tendrils
Of those young willow trees.
Songbirds winging their way home.
Garbed in their very best.
Ambitious plans of parenthood,
Gathered in their feathered nests.
When the brook is freed at last,
Of winters binding chains.
Then I will stroll the greening paths
With Lady Springtime once again...
© 2019 Mariannajo
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