A SONG OF SPRING

The sunlight spills in golden streams

On yellow daffodils.

The happy birds have come again,

Green trees adorn the hills.

The robin sings a ripped song

High in the apple tree.

Spring flowers wave their happy heads

In joyous harmony.

March opened wide the golden doors

And Spring tripped gently through

As brightly as the morning comes

A cross the fields of dew.

Se wore a robe of sunbeams,

A crown of springtime flowers,

And in her hand she held the key

To precious dream-filled hours.

-Ann Thompson Jester