All Poems must be:
titled "Ask Me To Describe the Perfect Spring"
in AABB format
eight lines minimum
and about the perfect spring :)
Ask Me To Describe The Perfect Spring by Deus-Suetonius, literature
Literature
Ask Me To Describe The Perfect Spring
Once upon a perfect Spring;
it is of this my fingers sing.
A tale of bold and a tale of new,
that out from the dirt the flowers grew.
Yes as the colors grow from white to pink,
I shall paint a picture now with ink.
The world in all its wonder still,
I can watch from my window sill.
I try to capture the colors with words.
I try to describe the sound of the birds.
Sadly, though, without having heard them, you can't comprehend
Not the coo of a dove nor the flute of a wren
Without ever having seen the colors, you couldn't understand.
I can't tell you how they look, I can't describe the color red.
I can't say the green of the grass is overwhelm
Ask Me to Describe the Perfect Spring by Mertus, literature
Literature
Ask Me to Describe the Perfect Spring
Spring, some do presume
Is after trees and flowers bloom,
After the crisp snow melts away,
After the birds come back to stay
“This is Spring,” those folks declare
But I like Spring in her underwear.
Before she’s kicked the covers off
Before she’s dressed in floral cloth
When the world at last defiant,
Shrugs off winter slow and silent.
When the streams run through the snow
Which has crusted over, no will to go.
For when Spring is sleepy, she’s at her best
She’s over bearing when fully dressed
Garbed in fleeting finery and perfume
To flirt with Summer, who’s come too soon.
No she’s much bette
Ask Me To Describe The Perfect Spring by SuPa4Natural, literature
Literature
Ask Me To Describe The Perfect Spring
Ask me to describe the perfect spring!
Ask me when it comes and what it brings!
When the winter walks away like a miserable wife,
Spring comes forth depicting a merry new life.
When the trees silently hum sweet lullabies,
The silent grey clouds turn into sunny azure skies.
When the shivering naked plants exert a yawn,
The tiny little buds wake up at the dawn.
When little flowers bloom; become soft and mild,
The little leaves sprout like an innocent child.
When the cold dry wind hops away,
The soothing cool breeze dances in the day.
When the sun rises up before a few,
The juicy emerald grass is glossed by dew.
When the sun is hi