When May Bursts Forth
When May bursts forth all moisture and mirth,
And birds bestir while you are still abed,
With everything bent on fostering birth,
And balmy blossoms like a banquet spread
Call to the wanderer weary and wan,
“Close your eyes and breathe and remember nights
When you lay upon the redolent lawn,
And took your bashful taste of love’s delights.”
For though that time is but a glimmer now,
And keenness of the night is now subdued,
A fragrant echo still awakes somehow,
And stirs again a near forgotten mood.
One kiss with wonder could the world endow.
In one embrace you found all you pursued.
Tennyson said, “In the spring a young man’s fancy turns to love.” Robert Frost said that the beginning of every poem is a certain mood.
And there you have it.
A mood, a memory in springtime, and even an old man’s fancy can be stirred a bit.