Spring Mirth

Plush olive and maroon leaves  
tempt my weariness with a reprieve.
Flaunting their secret scarlet beads.
Blossom with a lusting thirst for
spring rain's, gently weeping eyes.  
From a milk white sky, one for which
the dogwoods vie.  
Birds soar the mood less sky.  
They fly right through the lingering goodbyes.  
Echoes in the air that had no care to die.  
The ones that had no why.  
Like hungry winter parts with floral spring.
Barren bark and blossom had their fling.
The magnolia had no care with her lavish flowering.  
All this rebirth, it's within the endings we find the mirth.