Softly the breeze flows like a river
Kissing the earth with the delicate breath
Of Spring’s renewal from Winter’s death
As blades of grass are set a quiver.
She whispers secrets across the fields
Of wildflowers and dried out brush
Transforming in one audible hush
The world before her forced to yield.
And then as if set on course
The open skies bring rain to fall
Thunder sounds with mighty force
To answer nature’s urgent call
For Spring to bathe the world once more
In beauty fresh with ardent splendor.
~
Copyright (c) Elizabeth Barrie Buck 2000, All Rights Reserved.
