Spring has sprung
The air fills my lungs
The flowers will bloom
The sun cuts the gloom

On my Pop’s farm
Without any harm
We plant the seeds
And pick the weeds

We grow tomatoes
And some potatoes
Some pumpkins called boo
And vegetables, too

While we work, we talk
And then we take a walk
Around the expanse of the land
To show what we have planned

And sometimes we see
But I can’t guarantee
A little bird’s nest
With grass it is dressed

My time here’s not long
To the farm I don’t belong
To Wilmington I go home
But I know I will roam

Back to my Pop’s farm