Holiday Party

Holiday Party
The chemistry of creativity in the flesh

Spring

Spring


When sunshine feels warm,
  the winter blahs transform.
When dogwoods wear paisley-pink light skirts,
- with my Linda I want to flirt.
Spring's when days begin to linger long;
 a tarrying embrace is our song.
The magic of nature all around us;
 how we miss it in our blind fuss.

It's when hope rises again;
 youth renews, spirits enliven, love reigns,
when birds and bees pick it up again, the winter's chill forgotten,
 our fears turn misbegotten,
when just being suffices,
 in fact, exceeds the forced plan of our own devices.

Let me feel it, be part of it, exalt in its arrival and simplicity;
 and not be numbed by winter's worry demons with whom I have complicity.
Let me be reminded that the best in life is free: love, laughter, friends –
 when this is gone, life ends.
Let me be in tune with spring's moods;
 just as the animals, so simple yet more astute, pursue sex not grains for spring's foods.
Let me realize that hurt is only a winter season
– replaced by a loving spring where fear is blasphemy and treason.

Let me share this because of Linda, spring of my wintery life stroll,
 alignment of the seasons with my mate’s soul.

Let it last. Let my body and spirit have a spring of full measure,
 celebrating their temporary presence with Linda, my treasure.

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