Young Spring went down the mound
and played the flute. Nice sounds
were spreading over earth.
All empty places filled
with thin bright green grass’ leaves,
which reached for pleasant warmth.
The hazy dress’ wide train
left wet transparent trace
from shimmering small beads.
The sun touched them with rays.
They vanished in blue space
like night’s elusive dreams.
Young Spring went near bushes
and blossoms’ white balloons
then covered fragile branches.
They grew and popped like bubbles,
creating slapping sounds.
There sprayed a honey smell.
White petals looked like froth.
They beamed the tender gloss,
attracting buzzing bees.
Fast streams bore jingling songs,
announcing to all,
the coming of Young Spring.
by Thea Ariss
19.10.2024
The coming of Spring. The Kingdom of Streams
© Copyright: Тея Арис, 2024
Свидетельство о публикации №124102003553
Свидетельство о публикации №124102003553
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