How Spring comes...
She brushes the thimbles of chilly
Autumnal turmoil,
Wafts the fragrance of rose and
Earth’s lovely child of Grass
Nodding, beckoning lark’s
Warm notes to touch the ground
for a while, to make the sweet
melody reachable to man’s unkind
ears, for he droops to pick up
coins of pebbles , searches shillings
and pounds amidst wasteful
wet sands of decay,
Spring’s blooming flowers
Assay, ‘’look up!
Look at us, we are the
Timely therapy, we are
God’s plenty’’,
Spring is the candelabrum
to dispel the dingy
mushroom growth of
negative ambition,
She is the pure white Dame,
She is the sprightly
Dame Luck. Come quick.
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