Spring

Spring poem

The Spring is here a new story.

Snow guilted on mountains melt away.

Slumbering animals wake up. Slowly.

Night quietly creeps away.

Clouds of illusion fill the sky.

A stag meanders through the wet dew.

Daffodils and tulips wave in the wind.

The dull leaves all decay.

While the blossoms bloom the whole of the day.

Michael Rietveld