Spring is late this year but at last we can say
Despite Winter bleak, the snowdrops peep.
Spring, the beauty, awakens from sleep.
She stretches her arms and wriggles her long fingers.
The icy snow melts and the morning dew lingers.
Slowly and gently, she rubs her bright eyes,
Rivers and lakes thaw and wink at the skies.
She puts on her new robes of variegated green
And brushes her golden hair to a brilliant sheen.
The sun shines on meadows, mountains and streams.
Spring is smiling sweetly and the countryside gleams.
The sky above gives promise of a fine new day.
Spring stands triumphant as Winter slinks away.
By Christine Johnson