Cheeky Missy

Looks Rather Silly....

I know I\'m right.

Don\'t Call Me Stubborn, It IS Spring

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCXIII)

Does Groundhog Day begin at dawn, the veil

To yonder parting for a moment thence,

And closing oer fair hopes whose sheer suspense

Has perished likewise? Or does midnight hail

First notes where snow is forecast? which detail?

If I was not awake when heading whence

I knew but could not parse out for intents

Late Saturday, I shall not yield: I\'ve bail.

Spring is not early but on time as t\'were,

And haunting lea to dale likeas to woo

Fair life as buds emerge on cue, astir

On all sides in warm hours, and waltzing through

Now weeks of charming hints, til\'s poor

To say some rodent knows. LORD, I wait You.

02Feb25a

How about Summer in the 70F\'s?!

Please Say That Summer\'s Cool, Too?

(sonnet #MMMMMMMMMCXIV)

Tis Groundhog Day at long last, whether thence

Phil saw his shadow, or did not, t\'avail

Naysayrs or fainting hearts of fancied bail

I canna say, but here tis Spring. Ice hence

Is sheer, so sheer I\'ve slipped ere knowing whence,

The \"wet look\" quite a faux thing. Sparrows hail

In cheery notes, the squirrel high up\'d derail

Calm, scolding me, and geese honk in defense.

It\'s oercast here yet wears Spring as it were;

The fragile thought of life emerges through

These tripping hours where hope\'s faint but secure,

Despite the grey prognosis; say we knew:

T\'will be a cold Spring. That\'s good. LORD, bestir

Thy tender mercies and redeem us too.

02Feb25b