Spring

Spring, a time where flowers peak. The butterflies and birds smile down on the world bellow and the Sun crawls out of it's shade. The school books and dropped and the jump ropes slice the air, the flowers pierce the world with their floral scent. The trees flap through the breeze, showing off their newly bloomed beauties. The flowers shoot through the ground saying their time has come to show off their essence. The creatures peek through their holes and hop, run, fly, or crawl to the Sun that shines bright today. That is the true meaning of Spring.

This was my first real poem I had ever written. That I can find. There is one more before this one. I can't remember where I put it.... It was legally the first one.