Those birds are robins! That can only mean one thing:)
The homage of the robin stirs nuances where our lips
Pressed long against the song of frozen-field apocalypse
Arabesque alms of wonderful are wafting on bronze breeze
Inspiring the dormant limb with subtle melodies
The welcome mat for old man winter has been snatched away
And no one smiles to see his sense of humor spill its fray
Yet, he is not deterred but grins to watch his legions
seethe
We try to play along; our smiles are more like baring teeth
The fellowship of fireside and hearth is bittersweet
We crave a stroll where waves cajole and chortle at our feet
For we are hungry eyes of winter-weary infantry
This madrigal of March good-byes ignites utopian glee
Farewell, ye brutes that battle with the maidens of the
south
Farewell, ye gales of gall; of rebels reveling, uncouth
Welcome, ye jaunty jongleurs and ye blue-eyed balladeers
Your poetry of greenery will dry these icy tears
The intermingled echoing of spring and summer cast
Have garnered Time’s perfection in the idyll of the past
Ah March, you tease and test and vex with smile and scowl
and sigh
Come, we will show you to the door; ah, cheerio, good-bye
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Thank-you for stopping by my porch! I hope you were blessed!