Spring Equinox 2018

this middle aged rue stirring bummer haint no stranger to cold, when dark hen stormy wintry days eggs hit from Arctic portal en fold ding Atlantic Seaboard in a blizzard of bitterly, blindingly, and brutally sub zero temperatures from an occasional nor'easter fiercely gripping hold the majority years, sans this prolific recalcitrant scrivener lived in various and sundry abode housed within Southeastern Montgomery County, Pennsylvania with 19*** zip code, and during my boyhood recall, how massive ice sheets did erode the (then) opened expansive farmland, in preparation for planting time, where runnels of frigid water flowed with childish cheeks exposed to glowed after hours upon many a green acre got tilled and hoed despite feeling energized and refreshed with arms and legs n'er fro zen aye didst eagerly await with exuberant yen kickstarting thy body electric experiencing hearthstone nook designed and built by Christopher Wren after heading indoors counting fingers and toes to make sure, i still got ten soon hearing the chorus of fauna, and floral kaleidoscope of color aground or taking wing thus, upon thawing out thoughts drifted toward approaching spring, the season revitalizing dormant natural inhabitants, whose excite (like mine) didst ping announcing the debut of fecundity nsync with screeching from the lizard king. This Spring Equinox (i.e. man date: 12:15 PM Tuesday, March twentieth two thousand eighteen) doth rejuvenate inviolable hibernating animals and plants, and me equate to experience sensation, whereby entire being does inflate and (despite marital status), nonetheless envisions another gal asthma mate no...no...no...please do not think this chap mean spirited and under rate the woman (at present taking a siesta, and i breathe easy), who oft times doth henpeck, a trait inherited many a chic hen (with tantalizing tail feathers) now (until she awakens) proscribing yours truly to wait for my repast most likely ad hoc moist ideal for any nerdy kid to knock senseless, the worst facet of self important jock consisting of pop slop mock Hungarian Goulash, a melange of relics from age old meals transformed into a petrified sawed little rock.