Wearing wings of hope
In a bright, shimmery sky
The white pigeon goes
Soaring so high in the clouds
The sun only shining through.

The bees are buzzing
Flowers swaying in the breeze
The wind is so near
Carrying a warm sweet scent
That brings everything alive.

With their arms laden
Holding fruits in their basket
The children sing songs
The narrow stream gurgles down
The trees spread their branches out.

Spring is a haven
We can feel its warm whisper
And know she will come
She will see us every year
All the while the earth abounds.


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Sheetal Ashpalia
Latest posts by Sheetal Ashpalia (see all)

One thought on “Spring

  1. My first love is the winter..cause I spring.. such a colorful season.. and the way you sprayed colors in your poem is mind blowing…really Sheetal too good…the picture and the caption seems to be “made for each other”

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