Beware the Ides of March!
An era of restoration draws nigh.
Angel dust spored by genies
Replenishing our life forces
Redemption from forbidden promises.
Louver and lovers past.
Sow wild oats of nymphic desire
A monsoon of authentic colors
A new moon pours bourbon for the soul
Inebriating us insidiously
A tapestry of covenants we linger on.
Dew spews at dawn
The daffodil revival beckons
Detritus breeds life
A fruit of understanding in a sea of idiocracy
Rhyme this mellifluous hymn with me
lest we satirize our higher self
Here it is
And there it goes
For a fortnight passes
The church bell chimes
Manna will decay
The elixir flowing with milk and honey dries.
One thing will remain,
“This forewarning medley
Beware the ides of March
Prepare the anthem of spring.