An ode to spring

puddles, puddles, all around,
during spring rains, they can be found,
my little sister jumps about,
landing in the muddiest one, SPLOUCH!

the trees are growing green,
they grow bigger with each passing week,
my sister enjoys trees,
she hugs them rather than play hide-and-seek,

the birds return,
and sing new songs,
my sister points and runs,
singing along,

we sees squirrels climbing,
into the shade of the leaves,
I hear my sister remark,
'is that the chupah?' gleefully,

we ride our bikes,
the wind roars in my ears,
but my sister announces her dislikes,
"the ground is too disagreeable year!"

I see my sister in the backyard,
on the swings, she plays,
while she talks to herself,
about a coloring book maze,

I make my school lunch,
as the spring sun sets,
my sister sits near, hands on her hips,
"what a nice view!" she nipped

This is my ode to spring,
a poem if you will,
spring can be beautiful,
and the PT, wackier still..