The sprout, a small and skinny thing,
Emerges ready for the spring.
A leaf peeks out and looks around
From its home within the ground.
The cold has gone. The warmth has come
With the bright and steady sun.
But has the winter truly passed?
Will this sunny moment last?
The sprout decides it has to try
And ventures bravely towards the sky.
The sprout, a small and skinny thing,
Reaches out in hope of spring.
Felt like writing some rhyming poetry. It's still winter. The sprout and I will have to wait a bit for the real thing. Thank you for reading.
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