Sentimental Sundays

Spring on my Street.

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When the birds flock to the rafters to build their nests,

And the bees cover the dandelions making you watch your steps.

The pot-bellied pig on the corner starts wandering around,

And fires are burning from every pit in the ground.

The smell of cut grass and roasted marshmallow treats,

There is no doubt that spring has arrived to my street.

 

The cherry blossoms are bright and pink in full bloom,

At twilight you can see the shimmer of the stars and the moon.

Mama Mallard and her ducklings are gliding along side the road,

And the baby chicklets are hatching a pristine yellow gold.

All of the kids out riding bikes is a sight that can’t be beat

The official sign that spring has come to my street.

 

Our rain boots are lined up outside the front door,

And the swing set it squeaking like never before.

My cousins came for the weekend and an Easter egg hunt,

The climbing wall has been tackled from oldest to runt.

Now all we need is some sunshine and heat,

But the chalk on the walk proves that it’s spring on my street.

 

Then when our little pear tree has finally flowered,

And mom blows us bubbles for hours upon hours.

The snakes are wriggling through the bushes and reeds,

Along come the humming birds looking for seeds.

My heart starts to flutter and I think it’s so neat

That all the things that I love are signs of spring on my street.

 

© Natalie Morgan Allen and themindofnatalie.blog, 2018.

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