Spring,
New as fresh as the dew,
Blossoms of flowers,
Mourning doves coo.
Spring daffodils and iris,
Show in many hues.
Songbirds singing,
High up in the trees,
Under a sky painted in blue.
Bulbs popping,
Forth from the ground,
Small critters scurry.
And they are heard all around.
Rejuvenation,
Life awakens it cries giving the rains.
In light spurts and thunder,
From wince the season came.
Spring comes,
Relieving winters tense.
The cold resides in warm breezes,
Leaving as it blows its essence.
Spring stays,
March, April, and through May,
For we know that it is not meant to stay.
Spring,
Gives and it takes,
Yet it brings back everything.
When all looks dead and wilting,
She gives back, spring.
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