Each Spring Beckons Me Out the Door

A fuzzy pink sweater adorns the cherry tree 
and all the ladies half my age are smiling at me. 

Or so it seems - 
maybe they're just smiling near me. 
It's hard to see with such watery eyes, 
as if I'm looking through melting ice. 

Each spring beckons me out the door, 
but I'm moving slower than the year before 
and can't keep up as the ladies walk past. 
When did these women get so fast?    

Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief


  1. Priti says:

    Ladies are like that! 😄beautiful lines

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Liz H says:

      The times, they are a-changing…😆

      Liked by 2 people

  2. Women were too slow when I valued speed and now are so fast I can hardly catch my breath. Wonderful Spring poem while we wait for Spring!


    1. luvgoodcarp says:

      Thanks, Geoff.


  3. I’m generally a fan of fast women.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. JMN says:

    You have an unerring deadpan ear. As soon as I read your title a smile got stuck on me. Your rhymes are delicate and delicious except at the end, where they stick the landing perfectly.


    1. luvgoodcarp says:

      Thanks, JMN. I appreciate your kind words.

      Liked by 1 person

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