To Spring
So many springs have come and gone
and have been put to rest.
But my anticipation of the next one
always seem the best.
My eyes are older,
the colors of springtime bolder
and the newness of all that flows
is a stark reminder that appears once more
as the springtime breeze blows.
Never too old to enjoy this scene
and discover what it does mean.
Three seasons to go through
the summer's heat,
the autumn's hue,
the winter of discontent
too cold to view.
Once again spring finally arrives
and I don't feel as old.
For I wrap myself in the feeling of it
and allow its softness to unfold.
poem by Edwina Reizer
Added by Poetry Lover
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