Winter’s mounds of crystal flakes <br />Blanket the barren sleeping ground. <br />A gentle breath of spring is whispering, <br />I will not forget, I promise to astound. <br /> <br />An early thaw mischievously teased <br />Revealing drab blades of lifeless grass. <br />An icy glaze unexpectedly encapsulated <br />Each naked branch with crackling glass. <br /> <br />Winter is not ready to release her rigid grip. <br />She is not willing to relinquish or transfer. <br />Songbirds are preparing for their serenades. <br />Pussy willows are anxious to stretch and purr.<br /><br />Theresa Ann Moore<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/is-it-spring-yet/
