|
| |
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
Copyright ©
Gail Foster
|
|