Mother Nature with her long, long arms,
Her dancing freely with her many charms,
Her feet suspended between heaven and earth,
Her language broken into poetic verse,
Her breath wrapped around the sycamore trees,
As the zephyrs sing with the southern breeze,
Her lovely head poking through the cloud,
Her readings from the script of the days aloud,
Her heart listening to the voice of the sun,
Her days growing longer as winter’s done,
Her curtain falling back like the receding tide,
To lengthen the days for everyone inside.
The play has time to grow and blossom
As the frigid winds into the air succumb.
Curtain rising, winter falling,
Curtain rising, springtime calling.