That the sun-scattered coins on the grass
Made me think it was warm,
And the dandelions' charm
Lured me out to cold winter, alas!
Most enticingly tempting me out,
With the message, "Spring's here—make no doubt,"
Sunny coins beckoned smilingly,
Winking beguilingly--
Gold that March winds couldn't rout.
Now it's April! A harvest of seeds
Ranged in gossamer spheres meets my needs,
As the breeze starts replanting
The lion's teeth in slanting
Bright silvery circles of weeds.
