Eva Whiting

Down Memory Lane

We walked in the woods, in the early spring.
On a carpet of leaves, from another year.
The violets were shyly pushing through,
And primroses, nearly with us, too.
The winter trying so hard to hold sway,
But "Mother Earth" telling us,
"Spring is on the way."
The little hidden pool we found,
In a secret, shady glen,
And the tiny bird that sang.
To his mate upon the wing.
The squirrels running from us,
To safety up above,
As some horses strolled towards us,
Wanting only to be loved,
And the little mouse that watched ...