It Happens Each Spring
Freed from cocoons of shapeless winter coats,
Pert women flutter sparsely bright-arrayed
To tempt male eyes and steal my glancing dotes
Though wife lurks near with rain for spring's parade;
Despite air tender-soft as kitten's breath,
She folds pale arms to bring a cold front's chill
Then casts dark glower sentencing my death …
And why? Because I glimpsed a vernal thrill?
How silence thunders, warning of her storm,
Then sobs whip up cyclonic bursts of wind
As flooding tears beseech me to reform--
But spring! It's you who've made her this chagrined
And, though Red Cross will mend tornadic path,
'Tis I, alone, must bear wife's springtime wrath!
February 13, 2023
Spring Is Not All Poetry Contest
Michelle Faulkner, sponsor
Copyright © David Bose | Year Posted 2023
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