Phil Hodge                                          English                                                4/27/36

Spring

The first small buds that nestle on the trees;
The fresh green grass that springs up from the ground;
The first birdcall that breaks the still of morn;
All these are signs of spring.

The rippling murmer of the tiny brook;
The rabbits hopping thru the ‘wekening woods;
The ever growing light, as Sol appears;
All these are signs of spring.

The few, white fluffy clouds up in the sky
That gambol, just like lambs let out to play;
The sparkling dew, still wet upon the lawn;
These all are signs of spring.

Each year these things take place the same old way,
But each year brings the same old thrill to me.
Each year seems different, better than the last
Year’s welcome signs of spring.