Springtime

I woke upon this misty day as early spring
Is dawning, to lyrical enchantment, that
Enriched my soul this morning.
My feathered friends that grace this world
Melodic in their crooning, now sit in trees
Of emerald green majestic in their pruning.
The sun has spread its golden rays and
cleared our land of evening haze
as squirrels frolic in the grass.
The butterflies descend upon the valley in their beauty
Of this we can be certain
For it is their sacred duty. The bees with honey
Buzz their tune enraptured with their queen,
Their love and dedication is more than I have
seen. A child appears and stands in awe of
Natures great mosaic, the world will
Now renew itself from Paris to Passaic.

by Joseph Coyle

Other poems of JOSEPH COYLE (2)

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