What might be seen by all is seen by few.

Today the sky is misty with grey cloud.
Forsythia’s golden haze brightens my view.
All buds will open while the birds sing loud.

Lately, the small trees to winds did bow.
An attitude religious, as they knew.
Today the sky is misty with grey cloud.

The male beasts fight, with hormones well endowed.
The strongest stag will mate, he beats the queue.
Buds still open gently; birds sing loud.

The seeds will germinate in land well ploughed.
The farmhands’  faces sweat like flowers in dew.
The sky looks dull and dusty with grey cloud.

I wish that men and women were allowed
To leave their work and see the world renewed
See buds open , hear birds sing aloud.

What might be seen by all is seen by few.
The world created every day anew.
Today the sky is misty with full clouds.
Soft buds  open while the birds sing loud