Waiting for Spring

This is for a class assignment. I had to mimic the style of poetry from the Romantic Period. It was fun :)

There was a single song-bird perched upon the lifeless arm

Of a barren tree, in an empty park
Waiting for the joyous come of spring does little harm
Until lonesome comes from within the dark
Other bird’s songs called but this little bird did not leave her mark
For something grander awaited her presence
When the flowers and sun would no longer leave an absence

The sun still comes out and the little bird still flies
Adventure to be sown; new heights to reach
Never forgetting the sky still, at times, cries
Though it washes away the dirt and ripens the peach
Hope is brought in while the world does teach
That mountains stand still, the tides come and go
And the grass, while green, will always grow

The little bird keeps the barren limb at heart
Never wandering away from her true, faithful home
For when the leaves finally come they’ll no longer be apart
And the mindless cold; away from us will roam
No longer trapped in a flowerless dome
Though much was learned from the blanket of snow
The strength of love and the constant forgiveness flow

The furious wind beings to cease
And the first fresh greens begin to appear
They’ll start to come back, all the other birds and geese
And finally the new colors will be spotted here
The little bird will sing once again; shedding her last tear
The sun has fully risen and light does shine
Spring is home, the warmth is mine.