A Spring Poem

The sun is getting higher and the mud is getting dryer, while the buds are surely bursting on the sunny hillside trees; the boys have lost their skating, but the birds have gone to mating, and a low and drowsy humming is arising from the bees. Now there can be no, spring assuredly is waking, she is smiling all around us like the treasure that she is; now the frogs re croaking shrilly in the marshes dam and chilly, and the dust besotted housewives they are getting down to biz.

The hen is not forgetting that it is time to go too setting, and the rooster is up mornings for to get the early worm, the boys and girls are scorning sulphur and ‘lasses in the morning, but the mothers makes them swallow though they kick and dance and squirm. In the schools the hours are dragging and the lessons they are lagging for the boys can see the meadows where the brooklets pure and sing, and each step is slow and lazy and the disposition slazy ‘cause they’ve got that tired feeling which is dodgeless in the spring.

March 10, ‘09

                                               Webster's 1913 Dictionary: Sla´zy (Pronunciation: slā´zŷ) 1. See 'Sleazy'