In Spring
In spring, in spring,
our dreams take wing,
and seeds take root below.
It’s in the air. It’s everywhere.
And we share one big “Hello!”
In spring, in spring,
the treetops bring
a whispering that hums.
From woods and wells, the music swells
with horns and bells and drums.
In spring, in spring,
most everything
is purple, pink, and green.
The rivers run like strings we strum,
and the sun is a tambourine.
In spring, in spring,
the blossoms cling,
and the tulips stand straight and tall.
Each one holds up
a golden cup
for the drops of rain that fall.
our dreams take wing,
and seeds take root below.
It’s in the air. It’s everywhere.
And we share one big “Hello!”
In spring, in spring,
the treetops bring
a whispering that hums.
From woods and wells, the music swells
with horns and bells and drums.
In spring, in spring,
most everything
is purple, pink, and green.
The rivers run like strings we strum,
and the sun is a tambourine.
In spring, in spring,
the blossoms cling,
and the tulips stand straight and tall.
Each one holds up
a golden cup
for the drops of rain that fall.
This poem is copyright (©) Alan M Sugar 2024
About the Writer
Alan M Sugar
Alan shares his poetry in Decatur, Georgia where he currently resides. Now retired from teaching special needs children in the public schools of Atlanta, he works as a writing tutor at Perimeter College of Georgia State University. Alan writes many poems, and you can find some of them in the Atlanta Review, The Jewish Literary Journal, The Lyric, The Ekphrastic Review, The Awakenings Review, RFD and … the Dirigible Balloon.
