The Glorious Spring



The poem attempts to bring to the reader the sights and scenes in Spring.

           The Glorious Spring

What magic you weave, Oh, Spring!
Myriad colours to the world you bring,
The dead come alive at your touch,
Poets have sung your praise so much;

Meadows and bowers with colours glow
And the fragrance of flowers doth flow
On the wings of the gentle breeze,
Everywhere there is joy and peace;

Young flowers blush at the sight
Of young lovers walking with faces bright,
Hand in hand, gaily dressed,
With love flowing and unsuppressed;

The unseeing walk in slow gait,
Their faces and steps showing delight
At the mix of fragrance and smell,
Their mind on their blindness doesn’t dwell;

The hum of bees fills the air,
Butterflies make the season a gala affair,
The rainbow descends to the earth
And paint the world with colours of mirth;

With trees and plants in full bloom,
For the ugly gloom there’s no room,
The world rejoices in splendid colour
Driving away melancholy and dolour;

Sporting raiment of colours bright,
Children present a charming sight,
Hurling the fallen flowers in the air,
They dance like puppets in a fair;

The painters are a bewildered lot,
They wonder whether they’ve got
All the colours to paint the scene
To glorify the bounty of the season’s queen;

There is none but love the spring,
From laymen to poets their praise sing,
When you descend on the earth,
The world is given a new birth.

Raghav R

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