The windy days of Spring's torrential rage makes me glad to sit and feel her gentle breeze,
While her angers not kindled and she and the Sun have made peace.
She likes to show off, though, after a rain and thunder storm when she blows through
Branch and leaf bending both trunk and tree; pushing the clouds about blotting the Sun,
Or not, at her whim.
The Sun, however, is a tolerant soul, bearing her mood swings and ebbs and flows
Until she forgets her place, raging into June.
He then stretches his rays so wide and heats the days enough so she can't exert her pride.
He rules the roost, you know?
He tells Spring winds not to blow then no gentle tempest will be felt and scorching heat
We will regret not having Spring's cool, windy days and long for them again.
No comments:
Post a Comment