Drunk With Spring Air
Spring is here and I have flung the windows open,
the birds are singing and there is this smell;
that wraps around me and tells me to come outside,
I am floating high as if in a spell.
I see the sweet tulips are beginning to bloom,
must, must go for a long bike ride today;
in the back of the garage my bike is waiting,
some digging and it is now time to stray.
Down the cobble street I go with air in my hair,
I throw away all care for it is SPRING;
into the park with the scent of new grass growing,
and for myself- I make a song and sing.
I am like a drunk overcome with the spring air,
at last I tumble down into the grass;
on a pond ducks and ducklings are drifting along,
with the blue sky on a surface of glass.
The trees have exchanged winter for emerald gowns,
a gentle breeze brings me a pleasant scent;
and I go- to locate that beautiful fragrance,
oh, sweet wisteria with branches bent.
__________________________
March 6, 2019
Poetry/Quatrain/Drunk With Spring Air
Copyright Protected, ID 19-1121-729-02
All Rights Reserved. Written under Pseudonym.
Written for the contest, Spring Is In The Air
sponsor, Emile Pinet
Third Place
Copyright © Constance La France | Year Posted 2019
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