Anticipation

Springs in the air, can’t you smell it? To me the scent can’t be explained So it makes no sense in trying. All I know is springs on its way. Whenever that familiar scent Arouses these nostrils of mine It automatically triggers A colorful, dreamlike collage In my anticipating mind; Muted and inanimate till The first robin redbreast warbles Its early morning springtime song. So, in the meantime, I languor In this feeling called spring fever.