A light fog hovers above the field,
the pasture soon glistens with dew;
as the morning sun nudges the horizon,
nature starts her day anew.
The scent of spring drifts through the air,
grassy daggers begin to appear;
and will soon feed a host of animals,
such as cattle, horses, and deer.
Certain trees have tiny green buds,
while others have started to bloom;
the wind sweeps last year’s fallen leaves,
using its breath as a giant broom.
Clocks will soon be set ahead,
to save an extra hour of light;
and once again we are ridiculed,
by the creatures of the night.
Only mankind has a need,
for a timepiece on the wrist;
only nature can measure the minutes,
by the thickness of the mist.
Farmers have begun tilling the soil,
for an offering of seed;
which in turn Mother Nature transforms into crops,
providing the sustenance that we need.
Birds of varying colors and size,
pepper the landscape, and the air,
flitting about with purpose,
on their journeys here and there.
It is a mystical, magical time of year,
when life begins anew;
but there’s life left in old man winter,
he may be leaving, but he’s not through.
He never goes down without a fight,
for when it appears that he has gone;
we awaken to ice covered puddles,
and frost appears on the lawn.
The sun now grows warmer with each passing day,
those buds are now leaves on the trees;
as at last we welcome with open arms,
the Spring of 2003.
Robert E. Springer