The Happy Children

Since fall, they’ve stayed where they had first been put away from human view beneath the earth. Through chill of winter, longing to take root, they lie, dear tender babes, awaiting birth. Snow melts into the ground and down comes rain. The unborn infants hear the pattering and feel the warmth when Sun, aroused again, shines brightly forth to welcome sister Spring. Their lovely colored heads all in a row emerge by end of March from Mother’s womb. How fleet the time each child then takes to grow. How brief the span of each sweet Tulip’s bloom! Each year reborn, they’re twofold. . . mourn them not. More’s the merrier. . . they’re a happy lot! April 6, 2012