My Spring

Her name was Spring, but she visited me when my summer was in the light. Her fresh breeze danced like those in May and her warmth softly tickled the Daisies' eyes. Small birds started chirping enthusiastically when she carefully made her entrance. The leaves of my favorite tree greeted her gently with a soft shade of their green. She smiled and kissed me on my cheeks. Oh spring, you make the earth like a child which knows poems.