Your spring is your moment to flower
And strike colour
Bold upon a light, subtle stand.
Your red redresses and glares on the green
A splendour that’s seen
Above and before the land.

Wild and fruitful
Yet dormant till stirred
You grow only to venture
Like a migrating bird
With a time for a place
And a place for a time
From your drop as a seed
To your paper-heart prime.