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Spring Sings

A sprig has sprung,
Punching up from the once frozen crust,
Pushing and nudging like it must
Into the new field.
This year's model of sweet smells and buzzing bees,
Powder pink blossoms booming on green budded trees,
Warm hints of summer buffeted by breeze
As the toppling of winter brings cold to its knees.

A spring has sung,
Bubbling cool and clear
As the icy mountain trickling cascades to our ears.
It's here she says to her bright eyed friend
As the warblers sing out to robin and wren.
It's here they smile, giggling, with a dash to the green
As a bright azure bloom waits anxious to be seen,
Craning to the sun.

The singer has sung
White petals that give way to cherry and plum
Again with the sun and its yawning gold rays
That kiss off the pond in myriad white ways,
The smell of hope as the season's seas part their days,
A gift for all, a doorway away.

So string up the hammock and put stormers away.
Each year we are blessed with a day for the day
Spring has sprung.
Wander out into its wonder.

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