I hear the birds

of Lady Primavera,

a noted purveyor of lilacs.

I see daffodils at my laptop,

hyacinths by the recliner,

bumblebees in the coffee-mug,

robins by the iPhone,

sparrows atop the fridge.

Antic, frisky,

April announces,

I'm here! and flings

her hundred thousand flowers,

a laughing Ophelia

whose mind is all light.

Pray you, mark!

this tuft of green

which shines like nature's neon.

And look, this willow

burgeoning aslant

a gaily chattering brook!

All this bright grace

after long months

of cold hope!