Oh month of bloom,
I wander through the greenery
To gather myself,
I see honey and fragrance
From half opened budlings,
I could not be any more sick!
My beloved grey Winter mistress
Gone to the birds
And their songs that wake
Me from my depressed slumber!
A bird flies from tree to tree,
And no windshield is safe!
I salute the thorns of every rose,
I wrestle with the inevitable
Approach of Spring poems,
An avalanche of sweet seasoned
Words falling from villainous
Repetition, seasonal song of the
Lofty new flowers,
Oh my nemesis Spring!
Mar 24, 2016
Mar 24, 2016 at 7:58 PM UTC
Oh month of bloom,
I wander through the greenery
To gather myself,
I see honey and fragrance
From half opened budlings,
I could not be any more sick!
My beloved grey Winter mistress
Gone to the birds
And their songs that wake
Me from my depressed slumber!
A bird flies from tree to tree,
And no windshield is safe!
I salute the thorns of every rose,
I wrestle with the inevitable
Approach of Spring poems,
An avalanche of sweet seasoned
Words falling from villainous
Repetition, seasonal song of the
Lofty new flowers,
Oh my nemesis Spring!
