Blossom Sonnet

When the winter winds have stole their shivered breath, And warmer now, snow is shed, what lovely can bring when it sings; (From mountains deep to waken sleep) And gather the birds to their blossomed boughs, singing their elated woody sounds, (gently loitering in elder trees) speckled chirps in forest green Neath budding Sylvan mistletoe the earth is born-again, ages old returns this ditty of long ago (til rejoicing in leafy worlds)