ode to spring

A bit of wishful thinking - spring in the midst of winter:

Oh spring,

if you were but mortal,

or better yet, that I

was the May breeze,

you and I could make

such delicate love,

for I have long been

enamored with you.

Like loving fingers

through cascading hair,

I would weave magic

in your meadow grasses

and flowering trees.

I would move over your

greening landscapes

with a most ardent touch

and spread the intoxicating

fragrances of your

blossoms as a priceless

perfume for the only

one I could ever love.

I would caress your

billowing clouds, ferrying

them gently about, and

we would lie naked upon

their undulating waves

and allow the sun to warm us.

God, what a dreamer! What

a spell spring has cast.

Oh, if I were but the breeze.