Springtime fields sport daisies
Or bright Little League uniforms.
Robins and butterflies
Vie with ground-balls and flies to right field.
Umpires strut like peacocks
As their cries drown the mockingbirds song And
the winds breath smells of freshly-cut grass Or hot
dogs with mustard and onions.
And little boys laugh
. . . or cry. . .
In the springtime of life.
