Sunshine, then snow, all at the end of April,
It confuses me, angers me, and other things that grow.
My labor in the garden turns out all for naught...
Marigolds don't like being blanketed in white at night.
Ground covers can't recouperate and I'm back to square one,
Thanking mainly the forgiving pansies, which pulled thru
with most of the primroses, though aching for the sun.
Lady called me on the phone Friday to tell me global warming is a farce, we sure aren't seeing it here.
I wasn't so sure about that, freezing nights in mid-spring indicate
global something, dontcha' think?
She wouldn't be persuaded, and guided the topic distastefully towards bad mouthing Al Gore. I had enough and hung up on the old bore.
My life is like the Spring, off kilter and amiss.
One day's outlook so significantly varied from the next days reality.
On again off again, hot and then cold,
I weary of it, it does grow old.