SPRING

Clean, clean clothes are flapping
And dancing on the line,
The table cloth and bed sheets
Billow high,
There’s the creaking of the pulley
As the wire swings to and fro,
And the work shirts swooping, snapping
As they fly.

Small boys are playing marbles
In the middle of the road,
Their grubby fingers skillful
In their aim,
The blackbirds are a hopping
And cock a theiving eye
At the rolling colored jewels
Used in the game.

And little girls with pigtails
And lanky swinging hair,
Are singing singsong verses
As they skip,
The ropes are arched to heaven
And bliss is found within,
And they are garlanded with laughter
As they trip.

There’s a robin in my garden,
Who is tugging at a worm,
His slippery lunch rebounding
With a snap;
It is golden on my doorstep
With sunbeams in my eyes…..
And Spring has tossed her treasures
In my lap.