Emerald's Dripping

Amidst the canvas of new leaves spun, Where robin's song meets the rising sun, A melody weaves through fragrant air, A troubadour strums without a care. In the verdant embrace of April's grace, Notes pirouette, in a wild chase, Nature's pulse, the musician feels, As emerald tendrils on earth's skin heals. Beneath the azure, where dreams take flight, A minstrel paints in hues of light, His song, a bud, in the vernal mirth, Awakening the very soul of the earth. With nimble fingers, he plucks the strings, A ballad of rebirth, where nature sings, In every chord, the sap of life, Spring and song, intertwined in rife. The woodland creatures pause to hear, The music that brings the world so near, In harmony with the blooming scene, The musician paints the world in green.