Now that March has come we can heave a sigh of relief
Knowing that old King Winter's remaining stay must be brief
that soon now each tiny shoot, bulb, and seed will be
sending up their carpeting of green
Making of the drab, barren earth a more beautiful,
Soon the young lambs, calves, pigs, and colts will be
rollicking on the hill
And the restful babbling of the water can be heard
in the unfettered rill.
Soon the children, freed from school, will be out with
a shout and a roar
Ready with some kind of plaything on wheels to ride,
skate, glide or soar.
Soon the birds can be seen carrying straws to build
their cozy little nest
And then moss and feathers to make warm the place
where the eggs rest.
In the country, the farmer with his implements of toil
will be up at the break of dawn
And in the city we'll hear the music of the mower
on the lawn.
These are copyright 1996 and reprinted with permission.