I was just born again,
I’m born again each year;
you’ll know me by my smell,
you’ll know that I am here.

The treasures I uncover
are sometimes better left unfound;
and though I shower for days and days
I still smell like soggy ground.

I’m sprouting a moustache
but it is patchy and it’s green;
I don’t have a mouth but my
tulips can be seen

kissing all the neighbours lawns
while the leaves on all the trees
wave goodbye to the endless cold
and wave hello to me.

[And here’s a link to an older one that I think is a little more fun.]