She stepped into the garden,
a gentle breeze upon her face.
The dew was on the grass
and the cobwebs looked like lace.
She stooped to pick some daffodils
beneath the apple tree.
Not a cloud was in the sky
and the birds sang happily.
With daffodils in hand, she danced
upon the grass of emerald green,
so gracefully, so daintily,
a vision to be seen.
She skipped back to the house
and when inside began to sing.
She placed the flowers in a vase
in celebration of the spring.
Jacqueline Nash
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/celebration-of-the-spring/
