Pure Spring Poem by sylvia spencer

Daffodils and crocuses they bloom in the spring.
Snowdrops and primroses are part of this thing.
Tulips and bluebells, we shall forget-me-not.
All these remain part of a wonderful plot.
The trees are battered from winters wear and tear;
but out come the buds with no worry or despair.
The wooded glade now owns the beams of the rays
of sunshine that breaks the ice on her streams.
There's now hope for the bracken, with leaves of brown.
Mother Nature is now wearing a beautiful new gown.
Wildlife are frolicking it's time to entice.
It's a time that cannot be sold at any price.
Spring is pure all fresh and new, it leaves behind a
season that has been sad and blue.
Wind's will blow and rain's will fall, but this is all part
of the springtime call.
A call of nature that can be heard far and wide; this is
Pure Spring and so is the Bride.