The first of March
Snow covers the ground,
Sheep on the hill,
New lambs abound.
They wait for food
Huddled in the sun,
Under the big Oak tree
A bleating morning song is sung.
Spring is just around the corner,
Birds are flying through the trees,
Squirrels dancing on the snow,
A frosty morning breeze.
We'll wait 20 days
for Spring to show her face
As the creek runs wild
And Winter leaves with grace.
