Zoom goes past a butterfly,
I hear the wind, hard on my face, blow.
I watch grass shoot up from the ground,
I see the leaves, with a hidden glow.
The last traces of winter clears,
And the spring laughingly shows.

Out there in a greenly clearing,
A baby lamb is born.
No one ever thinks, of winter so forlorn.
The blackbirds in the sky,
The sparrows ready to fly.
The bucks, trotting past,
The does, trailing last.
The baby deer on unsteady legs,
As if he had hurried down a few pegs .

The starlings, chirping in nests,
The pony, with his white crest.
The mynah, chirping beautifully,
The fish, jumping in the pond,
Oh! who does care, of hot summer,
Coming beyond…?

-Edwin Joseph

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