The pear tree leaning to the window now is robed in bridal white. The twisted boughs are netted thickly in a mesh of golden light. And in the foam of creamy flowers, a blackbird dark as ebony --- sits and floods the evening garden with his April melody.
Through the long grey days of winter I have dreamed this dream of Spring. I have waited for this wonder: bursting bud and beating wing. Now I see a living picture at the casement of my room: throbbing throat and flowering branches; glossy breast and snowy bloom.
~ Patience Strong ~
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