
I'm born on the last day of Spring
Which is really a marvelous thing
When you're born of the last
You're born of the past
And by your ear a fairy-bell rings.
Oh, I am a daughter of Spring;
So happy I think I could sing
When you know what I know
Of the sun and the snow
You have greater power than kings.
Yes, I have a knowledge of Spring
Like how to avoid a wasp's sting
And of small flowers' buds
Of mud and of suds
And the sound of a butterfly's wings.
Do you know of the last day of Spring?
It really goes by with a zing-
It's June twenty-none,
Not June twenty-one,
Despite what some people think.
The twentieth is not Summer but Spring,
Though I know that you might disagree.
Just look on the calendar
(Though I'm not sure it matters)
For I really am right, you see.
Well, I belong to the Spring
It makes me feel like a queen
It's really the best-
Just give it a test
You can tag along with me.
On my birthday, the last of the Spring,
It's as though I'm given a key
I can visit the world
As seen by a girl
Who's found a new land in the trees.
So now, I'm going to flee
To a place that makes me feel free
I love my life here
But sometimes it's clear
That escapes are needed in Spring.
As Summer buzzes in like a bee
I drop down onto my knees
They give me a crown
(I'm wearing it now)
To welcome this child of Spring.
I am amazed, Anna...
I can't write a single limerick... much less 9...
I think it's mostly lack of inspiration rather than inability, though.
Thanks, usually I can't either... just popped into my head, came out on paper. =)
Again, all those typos... and don't even consider asking me to edit...