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