The arrival of spring


                                                             On the last day of winter I went to bed.

                                                             Harsh winds rainstorms beating my head.

                                                             Houses trees with a sucked-out look.

                                                             New year flakes from the old oneís hook.


                                                            Then overnight such a change of heart.

                                                            Spring come home with her confectionary cart.

                                                            Hundred-and-thousands strewn in the breeze.

                                                            Houses sampling them as well as trees.


                                                            People savouring them in punts on the river,

                                                           earth knee-deep in them praising the giver.

                                                           So (blankets off) Iím out in the streets,

                                                           glutton for spring and her burst bag of sweets.

                                                                                cathe waller