Flowers bloom, the Winter thaw,
Outside the songbirds sing.
With the arrival of the bluebirds,
I know that it is Spring.
But listening to the bird’s songs,
And watching the flowers bloom.
I can’t but help myself,
For feeling a certain gloom.
For I find myself a bit jealous,
As the flowers start anew,
So often I wish I could do the same,
If I just knew what to do.
02-22-16.
This was written for "The Year Of The Poet March 2016" on Inner Child Press...
http://www.innerchildpress.com/the-year-of-the-poet.php
