all the merry little are
flying in the floating in the
very spirits singing in
are winging in the blossoming

lovers go and lovers come
awandering awondering
but any two are perfectly
alone there’s nobody else alive

not a tree can count his leaves
each herself by opening
but shining who by thousands mean
only one amazing thing


sweet spring is your
time is my time is our
time for springtime is lovetime
and viva sweet love^

E.E. Cummings