My Mother's Spring Poetry

My mother is a writer. Here are a few of her spring poems that were published in a church paper.

Hyacinths~
Oh, gathered clumps of the rainbow's hue;
Though it was enough,
He gave perfume, too.

Forsythia~
An encounter with shimmering yellow
On a day that is dark and dreary,
Is like faith in a precious promise
When the heart is sad and weary.

April~
April is a capricious month.
How do I know?
Winter jeans and summer shirts
Are hanging in a row.

I love her poetry.
And I love my mother.