Spring, Flabbergast Me With Your Scented Flowers

Spring, flabbergast me with your scented flowers: show me the gracious lilies and flaboyant tulips as they spent their time brightening lovers's eyes; yes, open up your garden where the red sun dips, and the voluptuous lovers hug and passionately kiss... rising in me a desire that takes me back to youthful days! Down the rusty path, flanked by pines and fir trees, the blue-jay parched on the lowest branch, is quite and waits; at exactly twelve o' clock he starts warbling as a siren wails... we have become friends, and he inspires me to write melodies, but without a pencil and music sheet I must retain those notes into this active brain, until I get home and write them down while he shelters himself from he misty rain. Spring, flabbergast me with your scented flowers: show me the stately sunflowers and the wild roses growing taller than any plant seen in the wind-swept wilderness as the mariachis play their song to console a marchioness sitting in a breezy corner; these aren't musicians found in a parade, they are peasants with colorful costumes... soon someone will say," Alla manana, Segnora. " as the calm returns on the shore. 4/16/2012