The Song of Spring
The wattle is starting to bloom Spring is on its way The willows have yet to turn So Winter will surely stay Light’s arch it grows higher And the days grow warm The mornings are still dark Night holds onto her dawn The bulbs rise so softly Breaking through the frost The jonquil is the first Looking tender, frightened, lost The wrens perch in the sun Then fly off in a flash Waiting for the wood pigeon To finish in his bath Let leaves of Autumn blow away Let the winter have its fun For if you listen to the earth The song of Spring is softly sung