March on out

In March's embrace, as winter's grip recedes,
A symphony of change whispers through the reeds.
The winds dance with the remnants of frost,
As nature, awakened, is no longer lost.

Gentle crocuses pierce the thawing ground,
With hues of purple, yellow, all around.
Beneath the boughs, where silence once held sway,
Life stirs again, in the sun's lengthening ray.

The days, like a painter's brush, stroke by stroke,
Bring forth a canvas of warmth, a gentle cloak.
A tapestry of daffodils in golden array,
Bows to the breeze in the sun's growing stay.

Mornings awaken with the song of the lark,
A herald of April, in the dawn's soft arc.
Yet March, in its farewell, casts a spell,
A tale of transition that few can foretell.

The crocus bows low, the snowdrops withdraw,
As March, with a sigh, reveals a raw
Promise of rebirth, of nature's grand dance,
In the final steps of its fleeting trance.

And so, the end of March bids adieu,
To winter's slumber, to skies of gray and blue.
In the air, a whisper, a promise unfurls,
As spring takes its throne, in a dance with the world.

Source: Some or all of the content was generated using an AI language model