Lady Springtime

It is always the same

Year after year

Like waiting for a date

Who is an hour late.

Will she ever come?

Am I Being stood up.

Then without warning

She appears from nowhere

The prom queen of seasons.

Carrying baskets of wildflowers

Dancing  through fields

Of bright yellow daffodils

Around her the misty rains

Warming Blue azure skies

Her blossomed breath

Kissing my cheek.

We play like children

Frolicking barefoot

In the meadows of green.

Dotted white with new life.

And her late arrival is forgiven.

How can her beauty not

warm the coldest heart.

And even the harsh

winter snows

melt in her radiance.