The mailbox is gasping
Bouquets sit silence
The telephone asserts itself
With a relentless scream
Outside the window
It is spring with a vengeance
Wayward melodies flit through
My door of solid teak
I stand tired, of sweeping
The many ashes of love
Itching to bathe away
Stubborn fragrances
O, Reckless lover
Your charm is heady
perfect it for an else
I am through with mourning
This slumber is over
Tomorrow I intend celebrating Spring
Bouquets sit silence
The telephone asserts itself
With a relentless scream
Outside the window
It is spring with a vengeance
Wayward melodies flit through
My door of solid teak
I stand tired, of sweeping
The many ashes of love
Itching to bathe away
Stubborn fragrances
O, Reckless lover
Your charm is heady
perfect it for an else
I am through with mourning
This slumber is over
Tomorrow I intend celebrating Spring
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