BEWARE THE IDES OF MAY

Summer approaches in theory,
a month away and the middle of May,
and it appears to be a nice non-rainy day
to finish putting my winter away.

Grass to cut and edges to trim,
the neighbor in foreclosure, he left a mess,
and I’ll be cleaning up after him, I guess
I’ll do what I have to to make it less

a cesspool around my domain, I’m kicking it in gear,
giving the yard a good spring cleaning,
(at least these intentions are what I’m meaning)
the sky is clear in the direction I’m leaning

but off to the East, it appears darkly cloudy,
this changeable weather is well expected,
but with all the rain lately, I’ll feel so dejected
not being able to do what I’ve projected.

The middle of May, there’s flowers to plant,
gardens to plan, and as usual, I’m the guy
to do the bull work as I like to, and try
to get it all done, but I sigh.

I felt a drop, and he brought family,
if it’s a brief shower, I think I’ll be fine,
on God’s little acre (and this part is mine),
but if it pours, I’ll get wet and whine.

Beware the Ides of March May,
take this day and seize ‘er,
“Et tu, brutal (weather)?”
This Spring’s been a killer.

Walt

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