In early Spring while frost still holds
The apple tree prepares
in and sun and warming soil
To shed its Winter cares

And soon its sleeping flowers wake
To peek out of their beds
Then dress with blossoms white and pink
They show their little heads

Deep in those fragile petals hide
The promises to come
Of apples ripe at harvesttime
That bow the branches down

And in the deep of winter’s grip
While wild winds still blow 
I trust that He who tends the trees
Will keep me through the snow 

And that in Spring He’ll send for me
Dear Jesus lead me home
For now I wait in hopes of all
Your promises to come

Promises to Come
By Peter Caligiuri
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