Written while 12 years old.

Spring

As snowdrops stick out their sleepy heads

And golden daffodils shower into sunshine blooms,

Winter’s icy hand recedes,

And blossoms unfurl their shining petals

Like butterflies in early spring.

Winter takes some with it,

But death will not bar the way.

Spring, Summer, Autumn, Winter;

The seasons will onward sway.

Death cannot bar the way.

Young blossoms fall as clouds on the morning dew.

Pastel hues, greens, purples, yellows, blues.

Sunshine warms the snow and ice.

It warms those left, they’ve paid their price.