Spring
Spring
Bells ring
Sparrows sing
Blooms, in joy, swing
To twigs, dry leaves cling
Breeze, with glad tidings, ping
Midst creatures, there's a stirring
Cold-heat, slow weather transferring
Scenes of fog, mists, and ice are blurring
Will all these, yet, to the poor, new joys bring?
Copyright © Christuraj Alex | Year Posted 2024
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