How do I praise Spring?

Teach me O Lord to praise Spring -

For neither Keats nor Byron am I;

Yet I feel as they might have felt,

Tell me if I flatter myself.

The gentle kiss of the morning sun

My cold skin 'tis teasing;

The stealthy sprouting of the green

Like your baby girl growing.

The bite of the night though not over,

Brings with it the soothing promise

Of a warmer morning more benign,

Waiting rewards a healthier fleece.

This human body made to respond

To seasons, warmth and rain - 

A little lost in this concrete jungle

And to the cold boxes' feign.

The sweat and glory of summer,

The fear and romance of rains,

The fulfillment of autumn, 

Are nothing like spring's plays.

Festivities end, the new year comes,

Joy abounds, Hopes flare, 

Hearts leap, the spring in the steps;

Life swings on in the vernal fair.

Am I dreaming, is this praising?

Have I composed a poem?

Forgive me Lord, I know not how-

To express my feelings well!