Spring wakes anew, adorned in golden hues,
Her breath, a whisper, sighs with tender grace.
The streams, like poets, craft their verses true,
And carve their rhymes upon the earth’s embrace.
*
The hills don robes of green, a vibrant thread,
Their laughter rings in echoes through the vale.
The trees stand tall, their arms above outspread,
As the earth lifts its bride's new shining veil.
*
The breeze, an artist, brushes her canvas wide,
With strokes of light and shadows on the land.
Her fragrant notes through verdant fields will glide.
And wakes the earth with her soft, guiding hand.
*
The spirit of the spring birth gently calls,
A timeless dance within her sacred halls.
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