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.