The poem to pass the time

Winter has passed,
Spring is now,
the flowers are wet with fresh morning dew,
the flowers are blooming pink and blue,
the bees are out in the damp air,
The bees patronize humans who stray to close to there flowers,
butterflies are pollinating everywhere,
spring is now,
summer will come,
fall is next winter will come too,
the ever lasting cycle that we know as seasons,
for this we have not a reason.

Bo-Yo Shady
This poem would be written to pass the time when thew Medici went away from Florence, Italy