At last the days are growing warm,
But spring may bring the perfect storm.
It’s not a twister, hail or gale.
No, this one makes us weep and wail.
So hide your eyes, and shield your mouth.
For, lo, it brews both north and south.
This tempest whirls. I must inform.
Warm weather creatures fairly swarm.
They buzz and burrow, fly and creep,
And shuffle freely, as we sleep.
They crawl and crunch beneath our boots.
Perhaps they all are in cahoots.
So best beware, as spring has sprung,
Lest ye be bitten, bugged, or stung.
c2015 by Linda Ann
Nickerson
Image/s:
Vintage/public domain artwork
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