The stream bed swollen lay on bed of rock, leaf buds on the trees could almost talk.
The robin’s announcement unofficially spring , Catkins blooming on the willow tree.
Warm wind howling blows this way , the gift of your love is here to stay.
I knew what our souls unlocked, as time keeps score with a tic toc .
Sweet sounds of winter sing, to the hills it is almost spring.
The kiss of the gentle breeze, touched a part of me.
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Spring... The birth of a season , the challenge to feel , The reminder that time surely does heal.
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