If I need reassurance now,
With snow piled high
Outside my door,
That spring will come once more,
I need but to descend
My cellar stair.
The very breath of spring
Is captured there
In row on row of crystal jars….
The bright procession led
By early May garbed in strawberry red,
Followed by June, resplendent
In a gown of soft pea-green,
As lovely as you’ve ever seen;
And trooping after.
Bright with amber laughter.
Are all the golden summer hours.
As fresh and colorful as flowers.
Oh, yes, my cellar shelves impart
Promise rich enough to satisfy
The need of any doubting heart!