The bright green grass all warm between my toes,
Seems to whisper of the coming summer,
So I yearn for that promised sweet repose,
While bumblebees bump into spring’s flower.
Oh, overbrim-filled with impatience, am I
For popsicles and lemonade to slurp,
It seems a shame to let this day slip by,
Or so say the happy spring birds that chirp.
My concentration on school work rivals
That of my fourth-grade-self on such a day,
Hearing tetherball chains clinking their poles,
Knowing that after school I’d get to play
Outside, where the smell of newly mowed grass
Overwhelms the very mention of class.