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My favorite time of year.

A Greeting To Spring

A failing grip of Winter's hand is burning into Spring
Though it is of no consequence I dare repeat this thing
For in the borough of my nose I smell the slightest change
The fume that seasons come and go, and also rearrange
Counting three, no more than three, sweet tulips on the bush
Asleep for long, awoke by song and chirps of sentinels
The gentle touch of Summer's warn across my dark'ning blush
This early Sunday morning, yawning the disturbless breeze
Partners to the infant Sun, both wed with golden ring
No more ill deseases 'round for me myself to catch
Only scents of berry pies to waft the road by batch
To surf its way through thick and thing, no matter thick or thin
Maybe go out back and shoot some cans of steel or tin
Clanging racket, plicket-placket, with my boyish fun
The moon above can glow its love no matter what the hour
Not to mention the attention to the other young
Run amuck, and no more yuck! along our favorite feild
White shows green apart from black that's caused by clumsy match
And even in the darkest evening, it is light outside
Playing tag with friends you brag, "there's nowhere you can hide!"
Late at night, there's still some light, for stars are all your treat
For when the hand strikes twelve in song, you're still beneath your feet
Follow me who follows you, we play from this night-day
We fall asleep up in the oak and wake up when we may

Poetry by weirdzarun
Read 480 times
Written on 2007-03-03 at 08:25