The green grass hides the

Living creatures in springs’ meadows,

Dancing, frolicking, swaying

In the wind that makes the flowers



The daunting clouds tease the meadows with rain.

Yet, the golden sun casts

Bold rays that shine down on the excited bugs,

Making them flutter, crawl, and mingle in the

Sharp blades of newly grown grass,

Barely visible


Fresh petals linger on the ripe bulbs,

Eager to reach out into the warm sun

That is what I like most about this season,

All the new things that weren't there in the

Frigid winter.


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