Spring Fling
The decrepit Winter door drudges open drearily,
And with it, delivers a deluge of drunken delight--
Soft succulent sapphire skies violate my visions,
I stand suffused with muse and mystery in moiety;
A masked man in vast lands of vivacious vehicles,
Each infusing ineffable idyllic ideas into my mind;
Black and blue sockets, eyes beaten by the barrage,
Blinded by the balmy birth of a blistering breed;
This season on Earth, first fauna felt after the melt,
Helps herald the harbingers of heavenly halcyon;
Spring-suede-sod serenely softens somnolent steps,
Woken from within Winter's weary woebegone walls;
Lunges of my lithe legs leave languid lassitude lost,
A grimace graciously gone I gambol glorious groves;
Ethos ebulliently erupting into opulent olfactory scents,
Precious-painted-petals, the smell of perfumed petrichor;
Vestigial vents of weather'y whiffs and feather'y sniffs,
Revolvers of rhapsodic rays release heat upon my rust;
Consummate creations cascading comely conflations,
Slowly saunter splintered shadows of snowy sorrow;
A demure dalliance decadently drizzled in dulcet desire,
My forgotten fear of yesterday's forever falling flakes;
An everlasting elixir of eloquently enchanting equinox,
Fixes my frostbitten flaws and forges fresh life until Fall;
March 17, 2016
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