Pansies lifting their cold weary leaves and bursting into vibrant, singing colors,
Daffodils standing in yellow clusters, nodding like gossiping girls,
Sunny Twinkles shining their little lights amid knee-high Larkspur
which will soon blanket garden and field with soft lavender hues.
Wind chimes calling to the sleeping toad, "Time to wake up, a new day dawns."
Where are my gloves and trowel, where my garden clogs?
I have beets that demand space in the raised beds
and wooden fences that cry out for climbing roses.
Where to begin, I ask, grinning from ear to ear.