The hum of spring

bursts into

joyous song.


Gazing upon renewal,

all the old cliches

of eternal hope

march through my mind

like ghostly soldiers.


The echoes of the past,

of lost battles, of wars lost,

fade with their footsteps.


But the hope

I feel is real.


And inner peace

comes forth

as an

opening bud.

Author: smithaw50

I live in NJ. Concentrating now on a getting a full time writing career started. Glad you could be with me on the journey. Ready? Here we go...

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