The year has turned the page and waits for spring;
branches are silver-bare that wait for spring.
Winter has passed us by, yet it lingers still,
leaving shabby, snowy patches waiting for spring.
Though the frigid wind bites down to the bone,
hopeful warm thoughts patiently wait for spring.
Searching for the first of spring-green shoots
that mark the predestined end of waiting for spring.
Dreaming of the profusion of buds and robin chirps,
the warmth in the air after we’ve waited for spring.
Written for d'Verse.