Free from the frigid grip of winter's blow  
we enter a time of hay fevers and colds
Though April showers help the flowers grow  
they can be unkind, to creaky bones of old

The frosty cheeks of children everywhere
are pinned against a ***** window pane
The pristine snow of white has lost its glare
replaced by icky puddles and wet terrain

Spring, ...its not all about roses and shine
there are days when it rains and pours all day
She weaves herself around winter's entwine
and often leaves the earth too damp for play

I rather be making snow angels in the snow
then waiting and watching, for flowers to grow