|
I struggle to my
mailbox, Through drifts of high piled
snow, And find inside, the
catalog, That sets my heart
aglow. There’s vegetables for all to
eat, Trees, shrubs, and flowers
too, Old favorites from the past few
years, And lots of things brand
new. I want to see and smell the
earth, Turned by the moving
plow, To feel the dirt, within my
hands, The sweat upon my
brow. Excitement starts to build
inside, And I can hardly
wait, For Spring to come, with warming sun, © 2002 Loree (Mason) O’Neil
To Send This To A Friend Click The Buttons Below:
|
Spring Fever