The Virgin Year

As March lets out her dying breath,
The snow has gone, with winter's death,
Well and truly, we're in Spring,
For all new life, to now begin,
Before the rise of the longest sun,
The solstice, now for summer's begun,
Before green leaves wither and fall,
Making clear Autumns reign has come for all.
Until we reach the twenty eighth,
Of the eleventh month, a special date,
I'll bask in this, the virgin year,
And cherish, what I hold new and dear,
For I know that though many such seasons shall pass,
I'll hold onto you until my last.