Growing Pains

Spring was sullen this year,
Pouting like a spoiled child.
She ruined the weekends with crying spells
And the weekdays with windy tantrums.

I planted geraniums along the walk,
Only to watch her stamp her foot
And crush them in the mud.
She tore through the daffodils,
Strewing them along the porch like broken dolls,
Then cried as only a child can
Over the loss of a favorite toy.
She trounced the roses on the back fence,
Spitefully scattering blossoms
Like soapbubbles in the wind.

I saw her sneak a sly, sidewise glance,
Full of mischief and caprice,
As she headed for the tulips
Huddled on the hill beyond the back fence.
She was almost out the gate,
When summer flew around the corner,
Picked her up by her petticoat,
Smacked her bottom with a broken branch
And sent her squalling to her room.

Copyright 1998 Susan Matthewson