Springtime Assonance

The constant gale serenely blows the stray wisps of hair from my face.
The air retains the fragrance of aged things renewed.
The snow melts and turns to squalid slush, but the sky is always beautiful.
The houses appear pink beneath the crimson shaded clouds.
Soon all the muddy puddles will fade away and new blades of grass will emerge from the wakened ground.
Yellow dandelions will deck the lawns, bees will dart here and there and butterflies will skim over the flowers.
Naked branches of trees will bear new buds that will soon sprout into leaves thick and green.
All traces of winter’s cold will depart and all living things renewed will flourish.