seems like ole man winter
     aint finished doing business
whereat get dem self up
     in fine fetters and cuss
madly jabbing, gesticulating,
     and damning e pluribus

conveniently, deliberately,
     and selectively forgetting about unum
until...cupboards bare wren,
     emergency food stash

     mice eaten, and refrigerator empty
and there you stand with a growling tum
hmm...perhaps hastening to the wine cellar
scrambling for a jug of ***

which ample downing might be
     a panacea to hibernate,
     and deeply slum
burr until dawg days of summer,

when fruit trees bursting,
     and being alive feels plum
ripe with nary a worry in the world,
     oh...mebbe best to telephone mum

(real name Chrys Anthem),
     and share cornucopia
     as life for thee goes hum
ming along swimmingly

and haint nuttin tuff heal glum
about, now take another sip
     and breathe in from
smorgasbord mother nature didst spread

     vibrant flora and fauna
     sights and sounds rhythmically,    
     poetically, and hypnotically drum,
where the prevailing mood

     finds one markedly chum
     me scales fall from ones's eyes,
     a former ***
     er, and skool of hard knocks alum,

now just kick back
     and become seduced
while listening
     to the chick hens roost

scampering, grunting,
     and buzzing capers moost
pleasant since renaissance
     of spring loosed.