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Spring

Mother Nature walks a fine line between loving and brutal.

By Holly-anne SaitPublished 6 years ago 1 min read
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Mother Nature is coming.

The skies have cleared

The Bees are humming

The sun has appeared.

She traces her fingers along the flower buds

Farmers begin to plant their spuds.

She dances through meadows, green and tall

No tree is left uncloaked, not one, at all.

She patters through meadows and whispers "it's time"

In the ears of willing Rams and Ewes

Sending a shiver up their spine.

Mother Nature sends rain from afar to nourish the plants.

The breeze begins its gentle chant.

Spring is surely here for now.

So Mother Nature lays her head to sleep.

Before she takes Summers leap.

nature poetry
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About the Creator

Holly-anne Sait

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