March Winds Doth Blow
Morning air, March winds blow,Spring whispers sweep below.Through branches they sing,Waking nature from winter’s cling.With a touch, they color skies,Dawn’s hues where darkness dies.They dance over fields,Stirring life as earth yields.Blossoms awake beneath their breath,Spring’s symphony from winter’s death.March winds command change,Cold to warmth they arrange. Meaning This poem captures the essence of the transition…