Marchsillypus

O Marchsillypus! Sour apples, roaring dandelions lambykins and daffodils furglowering seeds blown through sweetling fingers and tweedy cantankerous fiends with the fierceness of lions toss the bouncing balls of lollypopkins into streets not made of gold to save his much too lawngreen soul except for honeysweet grandma types who stomp on the old man’s toes he cries with defeat as his sprinkler tears torture more seeds to sprout and poppop is forced to pat candy-necklaced twins softly on their wretched heads his sentinel-wife sanctimonious with arrowslant eyes will reprise a kick in his bumbum if he doesn’t likewise pat their furpet who tinkles and wrecks havoc O sillysourpusskin your dreams are afright not for sun days but treacherous nights 3/10/2021 JUST A SILLY POEM!