Spring Has Sung
Wings like folded dreams
unfurl in the morning sun--
spring exhales in verse.
They twirl through still skies,
tracing poems on the breeze,
silent, bright, and brief.
Each loop, a whisper,
delicate as falling light--
nature’s quiet pen.
unfurl in the morning sun--
spring exhales in verse.
They twirl through still skies,
tracing poems on the breeze,
silent, bright, and brief.
Each loop, a whisper,
delicate as falling light--
nature’s quiet pen.
