Come, Spring. Please come.
The dark, dismal days of winter
Pale sky, bare trees, dry sticks of weeds.
Brown grass, dead leaves and cold winds
Come, Spring. Please come!
The tender bugs are waiting to bring cheer.
Soft green and crocus try to lift the mind
Come Spring. Please come!
Tiny blossoms burst upon the trees.
Pale colors become clear and bright.
Birds call and chatter in the trees.
Flowers bloom in brilliant shades.
Yvonne S. Garvin
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