Monday, May 9, 2016
When the green buds they were swellin'. . .
Spring rushes in; the world is turning;
every impulse sends forth new yearning.
Green sprigs sprout up fresh and tender;
passion's pangs of love they render.
Some folks find love and cultivate;
they come together and procreate.
Others yearn and burn and go to town;
instead of loving they just screw around.
For some love works out really well
the passion swells deeper than I can tell.
But some yearnings get nipped in the bud
when careless affairs turn to crud.
While spring is new, passions are old.
In the annals of song a sad love tale is told
of love that budded but ne'er did bloom.
Herein begins the ancient Barb'ry Allen tune:
" 'T'was in the merry month of May
when the green buds they were swelling,
Sweet William on his death bed lay
all for the love of Barb'ry Allen . . . "
But despair not; some lovers pair faithfully.
Swelling with commitment, they grow up gracefully,
even through ordeals and terrible times;
true lovers do generate inspiring rhymes:
"This couple they got married,
so well did they agree.
This couple they got married;
so why not you and me?
Oh. . . so why not you and me?"
And this this works out well.