Spring with her sweetness and magical sights
Over powers my senses with pure delight.
I wake one morning an she has arrived
Bursting with color, from winter survived.
The chatter of birds, the whisper of wind,
The warmth of the sun on grass green and trim
The fragrance of blossoms on crisp, clean air
Speaks of artistry with exquisite flare.
It's almost as if she knows time is short
Each moment a gem of precious import
Aflame with color and bursting with light
She transforms her canvas long before night;
And night silently lays her work aside
Extracting pause, lest beauty subside
In extravagance and die before time
Leaving days to exist in pantomime.