Spring from the desert where the wildflowers bloom...
where the birds chirp in the warm sun and find their seed,
among the sycamore, the grape vine, the tall pine and palm.
Even the snowbirds bask their limbs in the desert sun.
Spring is ever so present in the morning hue...
as Cupid begins to bend his bow early this season.
The morning jog is once again fresh this time of year,
when the spirit of renewal is upon my soul.
How the music rings sweetly from the concertos in time...
tis a blessing which finds peace in the light of day.
As the birds chirp and the little children are at play,
Spring from the desert brings forth goodness today.
Robert's Book of Poetry
February 14, 1991