The sun awakes in gentle grace,
A kiss upon the winter's face.
A slumbering world begins to stir,
With dreams of life that will recur.
Green shoots unfurl, a tender hue,
Where frosted earth once held the dew.
A symphony of birdsong rings,
As nature's vibrant chorus sings.
Blossoms burst in vibrant hues,
A tapestry of morning dews.
The butterflies, on painted wings,
Dance with joy the warm breeze brings.
Gentle breezes, soft and sweet,
Carry whispers in the wheat.
Bumblebees, with buzzing hum,
Gather pollen, day by day come.
Sun-drenched meadows, lush and green,
A canvas where wildflowers convene.
Crystal streams, with laughter clear,
Reflect the sky, serene and near.
Oh, springtime, with your gentle hand,
You paint the world, a promised land.
A season filled with hope's embrace,
A promise whispered, face to face.
About the Creator
Rebecca Lynn Ivey
I wield words to weave tales across genres, but my heart belongs to the shadows.
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The Voyeur's Incandescent Reasoning
The woman sat nonplussed, in the Waiting Room. In a sort of daze, looking straight ahead patiently. She had already had three small breakfast's that morning and a nip of sherry, this was not unusual she would typically wait until an hour after she took her anti-depressant and was her morning routine. She was merely following instructions she assured herself, shifted slightly in her seat and feeling a little heart burn thought, maybe she should skip lunch. Dom had said to have the task done this week. She was well used to his methods and desired to get this over and done with soon. She glanced at her watch, smiled weakly at the Receptionist who was there for a moment and then gone.
By Canuck Scriber L.Lachapelle Author7 days ago in Fiction
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