Beneath the frost, the earth begins to stir,
A whispered promise runs through root and tree.
The snowdrops bow, as robins softly whir,
And streams, once still, rush laughing to be free.
The dawn grows brighter, gilded rays unfold,
To kiss the buds that dream of April’s light.
In every branch, the tender green takes hold,
Dispelling winter’s long and silent night.
The air is sweet with scents of waking blooms,
As violets shyly peek through mossy beds.
The crocus paints the fields in vibrant plumes,
While sunlit breezes warm the river’s threads.
Oh, spring, you rouse the world from slumber deep,
A tender call that stirs the earth to leap.
JH
Julan62 