O, gracious and bountiful spring!
Your breezes, soft and sweet, call me from my kitchen.
"Forget your books! Forget your chores!
Come and bask in my glories!" you sigh.
Emerging from my sleepy haze of work as you beckon,
The magnolias, narcissus awaken my longing for movement and light.
I begin to believe.
I tentatively hope.
But ever fickle, your coldness and wrath threaten.
Clouds mount in the west and as the breeze turns colder,
I remember that you are just a flirt.