The identifiable fragrance of Spring-like a poet’s muse
jumps out from behind every bush, reincarnating
the Spring before. Earlier winterish liaisons, now past,
succumb to her shameless, jaunty trysts
with a randy sun. They entangle, twisting
in whimsical lust and, in their embrace,
Summer is born.
2 thoughts on “Lusty Spring”
Eeeesh! Almost blushed reading this … randy sun!
No, kids…avert your eyes. For goodness sake, AVERT YOUR EYES!