Spring

This is a poem about Spring.

Spring is blooming with
daffodills on a green hillside.
In the morning, I open my
window to hear the
melodious songs of robins
high in the treetops
creating their work of art.
I step outside and the beauty of
the roses is so magnificent
that I just can't resist the temptation
to gather tons of them,
even though my hands start to hurt.
Then I can press them in a
book and keep the beauty forever.
Outside I smell the luscious
fragrance of some wild strawberries
that I eat with satisfaction.
This is my wonderful spring.