The Essence of Spring

In late winter, you know spring's almost there, but everything's still cold.

The Essence of Spring


The essence of spring is naught but a mist
A small breath of green that tries to subsist

Just like a candle it flickers to life
But smothered by winter, it goes out in strife

A specter in hiding, the shade of the snow
Sitting so patient for winter to go

An angel of small that waits in the flowers
The frigid green soldiers that sleep in their bowers