Spring has returned to these same shores again.
Like a wild migratory bird it settles
on tree or ground space, appearing afresh
from source, whose primal influence to retain
in tell-tale manner of exquisite newness,
colours of flowers in eye-catching, breath-taking
regularity of display, a movement
swelling with each passing day, and none miss
its instant appeal; yet, like coursing traffic
its myriad tones dwindle to monotone,
call it ‘new life’, it becomes all the same;
the intellect is not impressed with magic.
