Teen Ink

   The sun streams through

My little glass room.

Causing prism like rainbows

To dance on the wall.

My glass tree house is seated up high,

Through the budding spring branches

I see the clear blue sky.

The wind blows gently

And rustles the trees,

As spring creeps over all that I see.

A small puddle glistens

In the spring sun,

It's a snow bank that's melted

To tell me spring has begun.

The prism rainbows

Flash colors on my face,

Blocking out tears

And winter's trace.

So welcome spring

And the budding of life,

With your blossoming help

I'll forget winter's strife.