| Tell me about Spring. | |
| New Zealand now has Summertime; Springsongs have all been sung and with my gammy leg I fear my springing days are sprung but though, unlike lambs, I can't spring and Spring is left behind, I hope I haven't bust the spring that operates my mind! | |
| 1.) It is a refreshing stream of water that flows through the middle of my mind. There are rocks and flowers and fluffy bunnies there... no wait, it is my head right? There are just rocks. 2.) It is that useless tool for creating hope that fools believe will become eternal. 3.) It is when young men's fancies turn to love... a love which ends in a divorce court. 4.) It is what I do from my chair when someone yells, "Dinner time!" 5.) It is when Prof. Tom Lehrer and I poison pigeons in the park... under cover of darkness, of course. 6.)It is the mechanism that ex-lovers use to propel gun fire at one another. 7.) He sprung to attack Now who'd'a' thunk that... Sir Hugh would get so mad when I called his couplet bad and when I did, Mari did spring-- and my neck she did wring and Margaret chimed in to sing "Let's drown him in the AP spring!" The end | |
| Spring madness now we can see has sprung before buds have bloomed or birds have sung | |
| The snowdrops pushing through the snow Suggest it's warming up below But as of yet, there's only frost It seems the spark of life is lost I sometimes wish that I could doze And wake up with the budding rose | |
| A sudden spring thaw- rivers of snow-melt gushing through caverns of ice | |
| spring is a tease of seven veils ...cabin fever | |
| Walking on frozen grass, waiting for the Spring to defrost this icy air, to make coloured birds sing. | |
| Not for the faint of heart or bloom, the early buds explode in colors bold and vibrant, a visual overload. These colors dance on hearty stems their fragrance bursting free a heady blend intoxicates, the buzzing honey bee. A busy humming can be heard, it’s one of many sounds. The songbirds lend their voices too, a symphony astounds. As April showers bring may flowers, that’s too late for me. In February the crocus’ bloom and that’s a sight to see. So keep your summer roses, they will have their August day, we’re waiting for the Narcissus to come outside and play! | |
| Spring, such a versatile word, as seen above When in metal form, it can certainly shove In its delicate form, a softly budding petal Spring, the rebirth of Life eternal |

