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Rated: E · Poetry · Nature · #1982191
I love spring - why doesn't she love me?
Rites of Spring


Ahhhhhchoooo! (Bless me) It must be Spring.
A time when leaves are opening
and pollen starts to fill the air.
It coats my car and dusts my hair.

Don't get me wrong.  I love this time
when the earth is in its prime;
the yellows of the daffodils,
the shamrocks, green upon the hills.

The bright hydrangea's flowered ball,
the purple Iris standing tall;
this lovely pallet from the earth
reminds us of a new year's birth.

The sunlight filters through the air
with dust motes dancing everywhere.
I look upon the rainbow skies;
the hues a gift of tearing eyes.

The crocus brightly paints the hills;
competes with colors of the pills
that I must take or, as they say...
the beauty takes my breath away!

So many colors – Spring's jubilee.
I love nature;
                why doesn't she love me?




An entry for "Invalid ItemOpen in new Window.
Prompt: Write a poem about your favorite part of Spring!
Line Limit: 25
Line Count: 23

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