Insects Slowly Climbed From Their Winter Sheets,
Making Their Bed With Hardly Any Care,
For The Snow Would Melt Away Any Day Now,
They Could Smell It In The Damp Spring Air

The Newborn Tulips Made The Morning Air Ripe,
In Which Sleepy Spiders Spun Their Silken Strings,
The Winter Fingers Which Gripped The River's Surface,
Slowly Released As Birds Stretched Their Thawing Wings

Music Returned To The No Longer Frigid Night Air,
Stars Swam In The Rejuvenating Eastern Sky,
As Nocturnal Critters Took To The Evenings Again,
With Their Reawakened Bodies Sleek And Sly