My eyes tell me its Spring when I see the beauty of the dogwood tree,
And I view all the daffodils bob their sunny heads just for me.



My ears tell me its Spring when the lawn mowers come out for the first time since summer went away,
And I hear the birds chirping in the Bradford Pears as in the breeze they sway.



My nose tells me its Spring when I smell the fragrance that only Spring can bring,
And to the thought of Summer I longingly cling.



My mouth tells me its Spring when I taste the strawberries that appear in the store,
And I think of Spring dishes, and all the recipes to explore.



My touch tells me its Spring, when I feel the warm earth and feel the lilacs waiting to grace my table with their color and beauty so fair,
And I know God has blessed us with another Spring because he loves us with such care.

When I think of spring I see quail chicks
Little fluffs of lint on legs they are
When I think of spring I hear Mockingbird trills
From atop electric wires so far


When I think of spring I look to the cactus
There a nest made out of twigs and string
When I think of spring I see Freddy Falcon
And his mate Fredrica with their offspring


When I think of spring I see flowers in bloom
Purple petunias and wild flowers bright
When I think of spring men are on lake a fishing
And on the clothes line wave clean sheets of white


When I think of spring I know summer's not far
When excessive heat will to the desert come
When I think of spring I see spring breakers here
Enjoying our city under warming of sun

When I think of Spring, I think of hanging my sheets out on a clothesline. I hear the flapping noises that they make when the breeze picks up.
I see them flying like flags of a foreign nation; "The Republic Of Laundry".
Taking them off the line, I smell the sunshine trapped in them.
Folding them and feeling the softness of the pillowcases, I think of taking a nap for the rest of the afternoon.

When I think of spring,
I think of tulips, crocus and forsythia
I think of green grass and robins chirping
I think of yard work and I cringe.


When I think of spring
I smell the freshness in the air,
I smell Cold damp black soil,
I smell the aroma of new flowers.


When I think of spring
I hear robins hopping about grabbing worms,
I listen intently for the first meadow lark’s aria,
I hear momma dove cooing as she returns.


When I think of spring
I see mother nature making changes from winter.
I see fields of green dotted with dandelions,
I see light green sprigs bursting out


When I think of spring
I feel the warm sun rays streaming down.
I feel the urge to get outside and walk around,
I feel good, oh so good.


When I think of spring
I enjoy it more and more
for as the shadows of life grow longer
I must enjoy today.

When I think of Spring, I think of pear trees
First ones to bloom in splendid profusion
Hundreds line the roadways and malls
Tall and graceful with white fluffy blossoms.


When I think of Spring, I think of the hyacinths
Their purple spikes springing through the earth
No aroma this side of heaven can be so lovely
As the purple hyacinths in my backyard.


When I think of Spring, I think of the birds
Hummingbirds just returning from Florida
Enjoying the warmth of our Georgia sun
Fluttering their wings as they sip from the feeder.


When I think of Spring, I think of animals
Sitting on the porch step out back in the sun
A lazy striped cat makes himself at home
And waits for me to hand him a snack.


When I think of Spring, I think of my love
Working in the garden, straw hat on his head
A studious man looking much like a farmer
His muscles rippling beneath his shirt.


When I think of Spring, I think of new life
Everything blooming, fresh days ahead
God's promise to all that life never ends
What died last winter is alive once again.

When I think of Spring, I think
Of the smell of first mown grass,
And dew to drink,
The feel of bare feet
Without any socks,
Warmth on all shoulders
Un-wintered locks.


When I think of spring,
I think of blue fields,
Bluebonnets blooming,
Clover stickers feel.
A child's sweater left and lost,
On the way home without morning's frost.


I think of fresh berries,
The crunch of lettuce,
A mouth sweet with snowcones,
Back in the stands
Close to home.


When I think of spring,
I hear fearsome thunder,
Be sure the car is covered
From hail pounding and wonder
At the sight of forked lightning,
Off in the distance,
And then tomorrow,
Chartreuse trees and petals,
Scattered assunder,


The smell of onion starts,
And young love out smoochin,
No wet rain, dark of night, wind blows will keep them
From appointed lovin'.

WHEN I THINK OF SPRING
I REMEMBER THIS TIME, LONG AGO
SEEING MY GRANDPA WORKING
IN HIS ACRE OF GARDEN SWEATING
I BRING HIM A JUG OF COOL WATER
HE HAD BIG HANKY AROUND HIS NECK
HANDPLOWING, PULL, SHAKE WEEDS
HIM SITTING DOWN LOW, ME ON HILLTOP
HE IN THE SUN AND ME IN THE SHADE
WATCH HIM LONGTIME AFTERNOON
ONCE IN WHILE A BREAK, TALKING
THINK HOW HE COULD DO THAT, NOT ME
TOLD ME STORY OF DAYS IN ITALY AS A KID
GRANDMA HAD WALKED FAR TO WORK
AS HOUSEKEEPER FOR A RICH LADY
ALL DAY TIL AFTER SUPPER DONE AND
HER READY FOR BED THEN WALKS HOME
I LIVED WITH THEM, ONE SPRING TO FALL
GRANDMA CANNED GRANDPA'S VEGGIES
GRANDPA DIED,AGE 59,GRANDMA 100
I THINK OF THEM, FROM TIME TO TIME