Friday, April 1, 2011

Change of Season

The wind dances around me
beneath a blue sky
and the wind chimes sing
their metallic cry,
and I stare at the mountain
and wonder why
I feel on edge and quite restless.

The willow withies
dance like long green hair
caressed by the wind
in the cool spring air,
and the apples have bloomed
with a pale white flair,
but I stand here, alone, quite restless.

O robin, O dove,
O hawk flying low,
you know what to do,
you know where to go.
I watch the river
as the spring waters flow,
like me, they flow by, quite restless.

The snow on the mountain
melts quickly away,
My tulips are blooming
and long grows the day.
I ought to be working,
or at least trying to play,
But instead, I stand here quite restless.

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