Is there any face friendlier than those first flower-grins?!
Crocus, violet, pansy, oh,
Leading spring's parade
Of all earth’s countless, bount’ous blooms
Are any sweeter found
Than those first gold and purple plumes
Breaking dormant ground?
…for when their first, fair grins we ken
Hearts sing loud with glad praise
As winter yields to spring again
Then sweet, sweet summer days
© Janet Martin