I'm 50 years old
-turning somewhat grey
but I feel the joy of a child
in each passing day.

As Spring creeps ever nearer,
I see and adore,
- the birds being so active;
and green buds galore.

I watch with anticipation 
the white buds to open
bending down and peering;
can I capture their motion?

The colours on flowers,
after so much grey.
A joy to behold,
even on a wintery day.

A daffy, a crocus, 
-a snowdrop in bloom,
like jewels shining brightly
amongst the grey gloom.

The child like wonder 
in all that is around.
Is a treasure in creation
- just waiting to be found.