Spring, the washing leaves in the suns reprieve,
The blazing light, obscured and blight, shines through the lazy trees.
Seldom done, the cold is gone, and warmth bursts in with ease.
To love the spring, whence flowers grow. The girls they come, the girls they go.
But best of all, the gardens tall, and skies of bluest seen.
The season of life and birth,
The days that beauty dreams.
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Author:
RSM (Pseudonym) (
Offline) - Published: February 16th, 2026 08:01
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 4
- Users favorite of this poem: Carlos Alberto BUSTILLOS
Offline)
Comments1
Ah spring a time of festivals and of new life. Well painted in this piece it breaths fresh air and bids a sunny day. Nicely written
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