A small poem about Spring

I was baking and heard the birds through the open window, and thought, these things mean it’s Spring.

SIGNS

The bread is on the rise,
the bird is on the wing
and in the tree.
The bread and birds comprise
the signs, come every Spring
of what can be. 
Goodbye to Winter sighs
as birds in choir sing
their reverie.
The smell of fresh bread flies
through windows, on the wing
to Summer’s lea.

SIGNS

The bread is on the rise,
the bird is on the wing
and in the tree.
The bread and birds comprise
the signs, come every Spring
of what can be.
Goodbye to Winter sighs
as birds in choir sing
their reverie.
The smell of fresh bread flies
through windows, on the wing
to Summer’s lea.

The poem is four sets of triplets. But rather than the same end rhyme for every line of the triplet, I used the same three end rhymes for all four triplets. So, in stead of A-A-A times twelve, it’s A-B-C times four. And of course each line of the triplets have the same number of syllables: 6-6-4. And that was quite complicated enough, thank you.