Spring

A short poem about Spring

Spring laughs as the gentle winds blow,

Flaunting its beautiful light colors,

Nurtured by the soft touch a doe,

It’s beauty only slightly duller.

Everything is in motion,

From the swaying grass,

To the young mind’s notion,

Whether they be lad or lass.

 Spring is the most arrogant,

Oh yes, it is true.

But it comes in second, like a baronet,

Compared to what I think of you.

Author's Note

Thoughts?

Reviews

[Ahmad Cox]

I love the sweet and playful tone of this poem.