Spring

Sweet baby boy–you

Have me on a string.

I float at ease upon

The scented winds of Spring.

When my balloon is popped

By Summer’s scorching heat,

Adapt, I must. Oh, I

Will be a kite for my sweet.

But when change blows in

And the leaves begin to fall,

I’m tossed upon the currents

By one, once so small.

And now in bitter cold,

This wind whips me ’round.

Until, my love, by this rope,

Flings me to the ground.

But now is not the time

To think of such things.

For now, sweet boy, I will

Enjoy cuddles, kisses, and Spring.