A Spring Day
I can remember writing this poem. It was a glorious spring day in 1971, I was 10.
The air is as sweet as a sweet flower rubbing against your cheek.
The sun seems to have a certain glow that puts a smile of your face.
The trees sway as if they were being conducted by a musician.
The grass is as soft as the trimming on my poncho.
The birds sing soft and sweet as children’s voices are full of joy,
for today is a spring day.