The Promise
The Promise
Spring is coming! Tra-la! Tra-la!
Soon we’ll live in Shangri La.
Its signs are here and there and there,
Promising lush beyond compare.
Sunlight peeks through dismal clouds,
Breaking into winter’s shroud.
Days grow longer, hour by hour.
Hold me back! I feel the power!
Listen to the robins sing
It’s sweet overture of spring.
Cardinal’s whistle. Crows all caw.
Spring is renewed life for all.
The daffodils poke up their heads.
Crocus bloom in leaf-strewn beds.
Neighbors talk across the fence.
Winter soon will be past tense.
There’s the smell of fresh turned earth,
Waiting now for spring’s rebirth.
Fresh grass smells tickle my nose.
With each new day, it greens and grows.
I feel the warmth of sun come through.
I hear a tune from a bird or two.
I see new life in plants and men.
And smell the promise of spring again.
Spring is coming! Tra-la! Tra-la!
Soon we’ll live in Shangri La.
©Lynnette Schuepbach, March 25, 1994