A young man’s spinning head
in spring, it’s been so often said,
seems to grow more frantic
in fervor for a tryst romantic.  

His restless nights, his thoughts of love,
flowers, sonnets, the pure white dove,
his mind aspires to gentle kiss,
and dwells in tortured sense of bliss.  

He yearns and aches in fear to err,
in blind pursuit of maiden fair.
Her smiles allure, lashes flutter,
divinely charmed by his callow ardor.  

The old enfeebled man instead
is filled with ever-moaning dread.
The sleepless nights, daytime chills,
has he consumed his countless pills?  

Those aching knees, his dwindling mind
thinks naught of love nor Spring sublime.
Ghastly gout and then in turn,
prostrate problems, gastric burn.  

He yearns warm sun, pads made hot.
Perhaps more meds might ease his lot.
His spouse, not charmed by his fanaticism,
may soon go mad at his dramaticism.    
Gus Daum


About degus221

A Kansan who has migrated to Oregon.
This entry was posted in Poetry and tagged , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to ODE TO SPRING

  1. MaryJo Comins says:

    What a poignant and delightful romp through time, Gus! Thanks.


    • degus221 says:

      I heard from our friend, Pat, today that I hadn’t been approving all your blogs, and in checking it is confirmed. Didn’t realize this source was available.

      I am more than pleased that you are enjoying my blog. Have always appreciated your comments. Pleased with any suggestions I recieve for improving as well.



    • degus221 says:

      And I see I didnt even answer properly. I meant appreciate your comments on those blogs of mine that you have voiced.

      I still have trouble within the system, and have had a lazy six weeks or so in my writing.
      Blame it on the heat! Or my tendency toward goofing off.


  2. iam4peace2014 says:

    Very cute.


  3. C Ford says:

    What great contrasts! I wonder if young men feel that way anymore or if they’re so involved in their hand held devices as to miss all those feelings ?!?!


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