MEMORY OF SPRING

The memory of spring I treasure still,
As blooms awaken from their slumber deep;
The fragrance lifts my heart, the soft wind’s thrill
In every secret place where shadows creep.

When petals fall and colors fade away,
Each glimpse a token of our days gone past;
Yet in my heart, the promise of the May,
Will whisper softly, joys that ever last.

• A E Housman