The tender buds of April rise,
Beneath the golden sunlit skies,
A symphony of nature’s song,
In springtime’s arms, we belong.

The meadows dressed in verdant hue,
A canvas painted fresh and new,
With every bloom, a tale is spun,
Of life reborn, of spring begun.

The whispers of the morning breeze,
A dance among the cherry trees,
Awakening dreams from winter’s sleep,
In spring’s embrace, our spirits leap.

The gentle rain, a sweet caress,
A promise of the earth’s redress,
In every drop, a story told,
Of springtime’s magic, pure and bold.