• The days grow colder by the minute.
    By the hour the leaves change colors.
    Every time I think of spring,
    I think no more of April showers.

    Winter's heart icy-cold.
    Leaves buried by blankets of snow.
    When will it end, this season of bitter cold.
    Oh yes, when will it all go.

    I see color, I see green.
    Finally spring is here once more.
    For now wnter's tale is behind.
    The streams begin to flow as eagles soar.