May Is A Time Of Sweet Expectation Poem by Mark Heathcote

May is a time of sweet expectation
A time when these yellow fads fade
And fair maiden musk roses bud
With bees trumpeted in the parade —
Waiting on the first one displayed.

May is a time when guys use pomade
Girls let down their hair; shake loose
The last winter, cobwebs, and bloom.
Nodding like lilacs, all-which-ways vamoose?
Their chattering's pretty like finches, profuse.

May is a time when alliums leap & wave
Blue or white they're a vision of the galaxies
Of us acting like involuntary planets
And all our mishap eventualities
When spring disintegrates into long-drawn-out maladies.

May is a time, perhaps
For the devolvement of fantasies
As each bulb shrivels back along-its-fuse
Like a dead city hit by a wave of calamities
Each life, each season given back; in equal totalities.