She stirs
upon white sheets
a robin dips its wings
and showers the world with song

She turns
to tell the once-bare face of time
‘winter’s almost gone’

She rises
with the crocus,
and bestows her welcome
upon the animals and birds

She writes
not with words
but with poetry in the air
the sound of bees
and perfumed fragrances

She dances
amid confetti torn from the trees
and plays amongst the woodwind reeds
slips, slides, flirts and hides from view

She paints
her masterpiece anew
a pastel palette of fine chalk pinks
and impressionistic greens

She sleeps
to rest another year
shares her optimism with the sun
her job near done

She dreams
and tells the world…
‘summer’s yet to come’