Mischievous Spring

A mischievous season called Spring Liked to tickle the tree tops an’ ting And teach songs to the birds Full of old fashioned words Oh the rude songs Spring taught them to sing! Spring liked to laugh, and to run On the hill tops and wind up the sun With a glint in her eye And the hint of a thigh And her hair down and buttons undone Sometimes she’d knock off a joke How the squirrels would squeak as she spoke And oh how the **** Loved the sniggery bits Of the ones for the feistier folk! Spring liked the tease and the chase Oh the flirtatious look on her face! Catch me! She’d say Always getting away Well, not always. A time, and a place A word, Winter said, in your ear You’re crossing a line here, I fear Enough of the bants And the flashing of pants It’s most unbecoming, my dear Winter, said Spring, you’re as old And as wet and as grey and as cold As a sheep in the mud While I’ve fire in my blood I shall not do a thing that I’m told! And off she went, flicking the Vs I am Spring, and I’ll do what I please! Off to dance in the ring With no knickers an’ ting And to tickle the leaves in the trees © Gail Foster 17th March 2018