Tickle Me, Spring

Tickle me, Spring, with the tip of a bud And the fluffiest cloud in the sky Tickle me, roll me about in the mud And tease me and teach me to fly Tickle me, Spring, with a tickling stick That is plucked from the springiest tree Tickle me slowly and tickle me quick With the brush of the wing of a bee Tickle me, Spring, in the spaces between The dark and the day and the dark With a blade of grass of the brightest green And a feather that fell from a lark Tickle me, Spring, with a mischievous wink And a ticklish tale or a tune Tickle me, give me a thought I can think In the morning or under the moon Tickle me, Spring, with the falling rain And the freshest of scents in the air Tickle me softly again and again With a breath of the wind in my hair Tickle me, Spring, in a way so wild That I've never been tickled before Tickle me, make me a wriggling child Who is laughing and asking for more Tickle me, Spring, with a ray of the sun Come and sprinkle your light in the dew Oh bring it on Spring, tickle everyone Who is ticklish, tickle them too! © Gail Foster 17th March 2023