My Mother's Poem (3)

The Coming of Spring After weary winter days, We can see the signs of spring. The bright sun warms us with its rays That softly round us fling. The flowers show their pretty heads Of yellow, blue and white, Though warm and snugly in their beds They slept through winter's night. The squirrels peep out from every nook And jump and frisk about, Next comes the sound of trickling brook Turning in and out. The leaves again make green the trees, The birds so sweetly sing. The butterfly floats upon a breeze, 'Tis the coming of the spring.