A spring sun rises O’er ancient hills Painted green and yellow Down in the hollow fills Up over the rills Opens buddin' leaves Awaken singing birds Stirring folded petals Of sleeping tulips anew Still dripping fresh dew Invites me to my garden To drink a breakfast tea Thinking of nothin' such I love so much
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Posted: May 2011
About this poem:
After a long winter springtime in New England is miraculous!!
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Godsprincess