Poem

By Tasbiha Asim, Karachi, Pakistan

Spring comes out,

When chill goes down,

The stars will twinkle,

Flowers gain their pink.

A smile that returns,

A hare that happily runs,

Butterflies will fly,

Spawns change into fry,

Spring a month best for migration,

Spring a month for celebration,

The roughness of winter is gone,

And the beauty of spring is on.