Poem by Olivia B. 6th grade
The flowers begin to wake
from their hibernation.
The sun is yawning,
stretching, getting ready.
Children are stirring,
ready to end the work.
Is it Spring yet?
Snow is slithering
away from the sun,
dissolving into
slick and slippery puddles.
The grass is warm
like freshly baked cookies.
Is it Spring yet?
The sky is a soft blue,
whipped cream floating across.
Birds are chatting,
feathers drifting in the horizon.
Is it Spring yet?
