This is what I’ve got,
I’ve got a funny feeling,
Spring is on its way.
The sunshine is warm,
I love its heat on my back,
and flowers blooming.
The dark trail awaits,
ever willing others there,
to try their magic.
The wind shakes the trees,
with a breezy chilly slap,
making leaves fall off.
The rim of the cup,
bears the traces of her lips,
so warm and tender.
He keeps on writing,
long after the ribbon broke,
still indenting words.
The sad awful truth,
of that store stale jam donut,
no one ever wants.
