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Glimmering beneath the wispy clouds
Thus parade of Spring-flowering trees
I hear birds sing consorts as they grow.

Oh soon these thoughts unwrap and bloom
Whispering to a heart that pines and yearns
Its voice begs my mind to listen and discern.

Transition seems to be in offing.

 

 

Photo credits: e2ua.com

Posted for poems in April @ Real Toads