Green walks slowly across the land,
Stamping brown into the sand.
Blossoms burst forth everywhere,
Creating a bouquet beyond compare.
White falls suddenly upon the land,
But yields quickly to the sun’s warm hand.
Thunder showers roll across the prairies,
Driving out the last of winter wearies.
Lightning flashes across the sky,
Young boys and girls asking why.
Soon thunder rolls to our ear,
Filling us with wonder and a little fear.
A new genre has claimed the land,
Bringing a freshness of thought and plan.
Long hot days warn of summer soon,
But not before youth has played its tune. &