May

May

May, hey, it’s May!

Cold as any day in November or March, windy, too!

The ground is cold, but mowing mother-in-law’s lawn must be done

Then fertilize, no natural growing to be had

Lime, water and seed is my way, but still not warm enough during the day

But for cold climate perennial rye, that sly green cover

She’ll pop in a few days time, but how much growth without warmth?

Squirrels still steal bird seed, wife won’t allow a bb gun ‘To scare,’ I say, ‘not to kill.’

‘Nope,’ comes the reply, and ‘I like squirrels; they’re wildlife, too,’ she concludes

Blue skies peek around roaming clouds, teasing, tempting, promising . . . but then run away

Dog chases squirrels, unsuccessfully

Fountain gurgles and bubbles

Lawn chairs beckon, but lie about the weather

New hammock ordered; old one used for mouse house

Dead trees to fell, full ones to prune

Old leaves wink and nod

Bird bath filled, but no takers yet

Ah, May, the promise of spring come true!

OK to plant after Mothers Day, they say, but not today

For it’s a cold, cold May