Sunday, 23 March 2014

Well Sprung

Another poem on the Spring?
Whoever heard of such a thing?
We leave cold winter far behind
And know upfront the weather's kind.

Those long, dark, dreary Sundays end.
This dratted climate's on the mend.
At worst those March winds bite and blow
At best the garden flowers grow.

Each one of us will find a reason
To feel elated in this season.
New clothes? New friends? A forward step?
Hope is reborn within - and yet

That special warm and inner glow
Is something only lovers know.

(c) Poet in the woods 2014


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