Capricious Miss

We used to ponder much why spring

     Was called a maid;

And thought sometimes it was because

     She was afraid.

Then through the gentle, fleeting hours

     Of youthful joy,

We thought perchance it was because

     She was so coy.

Long years have made the secret known,

     And sad the blow;

It is for reasons only one –

     She fools us so!

March 26, ‘09