Winter weeping must now let go its bitter grip of ice and snow; frost-bitten trees burst out in leaf, and soon forget their latest grief. The sun breaks through to heat the earth, gives mass-explosion of green birth, the land throws off its captive's hold, so earth perfumes can now grow bold. Let go of all the former things; a bumblebee twice never stings and change is sure, as certain is the song the chubby robin sings. 3.0
© Brian Hodgkinson Jr. (aka) –Limericist 2007/2021