Hope of spring

The wind is gently swishing round

And now the soft-breathed breeze has found

Some old leaves resting on the ground

And piled  them up into a mound

Against our red brick wall.

The sun is shining here today.

I hope its light is here to stay

I want the summer now, always.

Azalea blooms  to bless my way

No more frost at all.

But yet  the wind has gathered force

The weather shows  us no remorse

We  must submit to Nature’s course,

Yet listen for that still, small voice.

For God, it is, who calls.