“Ah, Spring!”

It’s spring; it’s spring

the birdies sing with glee

as all around creeps the columbine vine

startling some stately tree.

It’s spring; it’s spring,

the fishes spin their tale

and swirling near streams, the wildflowers be

home for some tiny snail.

It’s spring; it’s spring;

the valley sings their song;

squirrels in tune

curl their tales at the moon

as green grass grows along.