The Writers' Circle

My heart is pounding in my chest
I feel its steady, drumming beat
I cannot sit, I cannot rest
Impatient in my classroom seat

Outside, the air is warm and clear
And there, the sun shines brightly down
The birds are chirping everywhere
I smell the new grass freshly mown

Spun-sugar clouds drift through the sky
All dancing with the gentle breeze
My dreams are soaring - oh, so high!
Above the newly budding trees

Small butterflies flit through the air
On delicate and vibrant wings
And honeysuckle trumpets blare
To herald the approach of Spring.