Thoughts Of Spring Poem by john (called jack) wren

The thoughts of Spring are clouded
her days are bitter- sweet
Winter is only hiding
merely dragging her feet.

A Blackbird in polished coat
that suites its extravagant taste
titivates its shabby beak
with a touch of yellow paste.

A Song Thrush starts a melody
that's pure magic to the ear
in loud rich musical tones
from this master balladeer.

Buds with a hint of green
appear with apparent unease
peeping out from their beds
fearful of Winter's tease.

In the middle of April, one would think
of only showers of rain
but snow is only a cloud away
as it waits to come back again.