Wild Open Rich Woods

As the Robins dart across Ignoring the clouds of gray And cold breeze with the dry air Bob their heads eating a bug Something to me not there The Redbuds that in the wild Do grow begin to show their True colors along the roads Nestled beside are trees that Are beginning to awake Soon different shades of green Will canvas the wild spring woods Each tree shows its beautiful Or knarled structure that's not Now hidden by leaf, flower Some being stately, others Seem to be very dower Some look as though being crowned Or shaped by ice storm, children Climbing on the young weak limbs Each one having a beauty All their own adorning the Woods giving rich character To the wild open rich woods