Spring

Come the Spring, come the rain, come the greening leaves,
Come the days getting longer, the evenings bright,
Hear the birds making homes in the shady eaves,
Hear the bees softly drone in the morning light,

See the coats coming off, showing shorter sleeves
See the snow clinging on to the mountain heights
As the year comes of age, so the heart of Spring,
As the youth of the year, is a fleeting thing.

 – Kell Willsen