If the change of the season is progress,
Sunday's cold could be viewed as only a minor setback...
...but when the snow was falling fast and thick,
it looked like full-blown winter.
Even the creatures seemed to think so,
flying through the flakes and posing for Christmas cards.
After a year underground, this iris emerged to a balmy day Saturday,
but Sunday must have been a surprise.
Who would have guessed that Spring was only days away?
The creek is still flowing, but by yesterday, most of the snow was gone.
Spring peepers are singing as if nothing had happened,
and it feels like Spring is coming after all.
When will spring put on its splendor?
When will yellow blossoms nod?
Atop their stalks, so green and slender
Their frilly faces bow to God.
The winter’s drab; the birds are still.
When will spring put on its splendor
To raise the silent whip-poor-will
And paint the tulips, bright and tender?
When will winter days surrender
To brighter, longer days of spring?
When will spring put on its splendor
And cause the sweet-voiced wrens to sing?
Of the calendar’s four seasons
Vibrant spring has no contender
For the wait, it has its reasons
When will spring put on its splendor?
When will spring put on its splendor?
When will yellow blossoms nod?
Atop their stalks, so green and slender
Their frilly faces bow to God.
When will spring put on its splendor
To raise the silent whip-poor-will
And paint the tulips, bright and tender?
To brighter, longer days of spring?
When will spring put on its splendor
And cause the sweet-voiced wrens to sing?
Vibrant spring has no contender
For the wait, it has its reasons
When will spring put on its splendor?
