When days are dark
I dream of Spring
of fields lush
with songbirds singing
trees in bloom
and flowers swaying
A chorus with voice aplenty
leaving my cave
to step in time
with their symphony
I ponder
If nature’s reborn
refreshed and renewed
after dormant buried months
why could I not do
the same?
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A/N:
a little entry for a couple of community prompts, below:
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About the Creator
Matthew J. Fromm
Full-time nerd, history enthusiast, and proprietor of arcane knowledge.
Here there be dragons, knights, castles, and quests (plus the occasional dose of absurdity).
I can be reached at [email protected]
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