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


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