by: Donald A. MacCord

The wind blew warm wafting round about with a gentle breeze
And on the ground and on the pond it eased the winter grip.
The ice and snow could not retain the dreadful icy freeze.
The  pine trees tall on the distant ridge shed their blanket white.
A song bird sang it's mating call while still in playful flight.
A sunbeam played on the forest floor and warmed a tiny seed.
It called it forth to light and life, and from it's darkness freed.
In a darkened cave on a hill not far, a furry creature stirred,
And a tiny waif had come to life and sought it's mother's milk.
Around about in every glen the sounds were soft as silk
But evident that Spring had come, to be seen and felt and heard.