Lady Springtime
It is always the same.
Year after year.
Like waiting for a date
Who is an hour late.
Will she ever come?
Am I Being stood up.
Then without warning
She appears from nowhere
The prom queen of seasons.
Carrying baskets of wildflowers.
Dancing through fields
Of bright yellow daffodils.
Around her the misty rains
Warming Blue azure skies
Her blossomed breath
Kissing my cheek.
We play like children
Frolicking barefoot
In the meadows of green.
Dotted white with new life.
And her late arrival is forgiven.
How can her beauty not
Melt the coldest heart.
And even the harsh
winter snows
melt in her radiance
