A poem of spring we were asked to write
But when I tried I became wound up tight.

Does it mean green shoots on trees
gently rippling on the breeze

As I wonder , struggle and toil
The mysteries of the helicoil

does it mean some curly steel
Round and round just like a wheel

Or A piece of metal in a lock
A tiny movement in a clock

Does it bounce and move about
Like zebbadee on a round about

Of course you know I like to tease
It’ really is the Fresh young leaves

Crocus, snowdrop, and such spring flowers
Spend some time while away the hours.

Look out of the window have no fear
Rejoice, rejoice now Spring is here.