The Middle of May
Four weeks and one, plus a day
Will place me in the middle of May.
And while I watch from within my room
Peering out into a mournful gloom
I passionately ponder, like one obsessed,
Thoughfully thinking with thoughts possessed
Of birds and bees and flowers and trees;
Of laughing and dancing in a warm, gentle breeze;
Of running and swimming with everyone smiling
Of sneaking a moment with a girl beguiling.
And in the end one thought prevails
That four weeks and one, plus a day
Will place me in the middle of May.
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