Spring
Spring comes as a butterfly,
soft wings in the air.
She drifts over the meadow
touching everything with care.
She lands beside the flowers
and whispers, “Time to grow.”
Then all the tiny sprouts
peek up to say hello.
She warms the grass with sunlight
as she flutters by.
She paints the world in colors
under a brighter sky.
Spring, the gentle butterfly,
flies from place to place.
Wherever she goes flying,
she leaves a smiling trace.
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
