Spring

(from a man’s perspective)

Spring’s your crazy girlfriend
Tells you she’ll arrive at nine
Doesn’t show
‘Til three weeks later

No point in pouting
You know the way she is
Dazzling, wild and uninhibited
Allergic to calendars and clocks

And when she comes?
She’ll wear a low-cut dress
Flash a bit o’ thigh, and
Make you swoon from her perfume

Then disappear again
Keep you lusting, panting
Aching to embrace her, to
Bed together for days on end

You’ve been cold and hungry
For so long, too long
You’d forgive her everything
And you do

The way you always have

* * *