The roses bloom upon the grounds of spring,
So fresh and fair they glow as fragrant faces,
So nice and neatly, never giving up
The hope who's fueled by the rays of the sun.
The beams are bright like a beautiful brow,
They did wait after rains upon the day,
Where clouds would leave the lovely sun alone,
And conquer then with little might again.
Playing around with sounds! Though it's not spring, I still wanted to express my love for it.