Spring crept in while I was sleeping,
She does this every year.
For weeks I dream of her arrival,
Then suddenly she’s here.
In the nodding heads of flowers,
On the pine sap scented breeze,
The voices of a thousand birds
Singing in the trees.
She’s the moodiest of seasons,
Always going to extremes,
But every time she visits,
I’m sad to see her leave.