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Spring

Dorothy Bridges

The trees bend in the wind
And spring has flung her hair
To dry off April's showers
In the bright May air
The tears on my wet cheeks
Are drying in the sun
My broken heart is healed
My winter grief is done.
The flowers all are glowing
Mustard fields are gold
The old grey thoughts are dead
New loveliness I hold
Oh God what are the sorrows
That the year may bring
As long as I know love
And breathe the brimming spring

[Listen to a sound byte from this poem
recorded by Thorsten Kaye]