By Robin Roberts

There are little yellow suns in a sea of green
There's only one thing this could mean
Spring has come calling once again
With her warm sun and growing rain.
Some call them weeds, I call them treasures
They're one of nature's beautiful pleasures
A free gift to us after all the snow
Some are in a hurry to see them go.
They bring out the mowers and chop them down
But they make me smile instead of frown
They're bright little reminders that all is new
When the cold winter winds are through.
So go ahead if you must
Grind them into the dust
But I will enjoy them while I can
Painted by Mother Nature's own hand.

Copyright 2012, Robin Mack-Roberts

About the Author

My name is Robin Roberts, and I'm from Pennsylvania. I'm a single/divorced mother of two beautiful girls who are the lights of my world. I am also engaged to a wonderful man who lights up the other half of my world. I work as an administrative assistant and have worked in the same career field for most of my adult life. I write poetry in my spare time.

I'm a Beatlemaniac, having loved the Beatles all of my life. I also enjoy other classic rock bands, but no other band/musician has captured my heart quite like those four lads from Liverpool.

My interests, other than the aforementioned, include hiking/walking, camping, traveling, bowling, reading, and spending time with family and friends.

Poetry is the music of our souls. //o-o\\

Tell Robin what you thought of her poem!

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