Early March
The rain clouds overflow and spill.
I shiver in the wind.
Stooping to pick some springtime,
I bring an armload in.
My house is filled with sunshine,
For on all the window sills
Are streams of golden sunbeams
From my yellow daffodils.
These lovely golden flowers
Are my gift from up above.
For my spring hungry soul, my God
Sends proof of his true love.
By Joyce
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2010
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