
*Illustration reference: Oscar Wilde
Irish poet and playwright
The warmth of spring plays peek-a-boo
It ducks and hides, it dives and bends
When will this romp of headache end
As wipe again wet muck from shoe
Exhausted from the news reports
Another storm tomorrow comes
Batten hatches, tight as drum
Clearing snow is not a sport
The buds confused by frost and sun
Will peek then close, locked tight cocoon
Pleading that Spring come, and soon
Of erratic climes they’re done, and done!
All flora has slept long enough
The fauna sleepily from nest
Has gotten more than needed rest
Their torrid quilt they ache to slough
The day did break with brighter skies
Thermometer reads double digits
Helios, at last outbid it
Wintry-time, away it flies!
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