Ah,
Spring!
Season
Of
The
Rose,
That
Causes
Nasal
Passages
To
Close.
Eyes
Mist,
Kissed
By
Wafting
Breezes
That
Carry
Bird
Song
And
Sneezes.
I glory
In
The
New
Formed
Leaf
And
Strive
To
Ignore
Mold
And
Spore.
Soon
Enough,
Time
Will
Fly,
And
Erase
This
Tiresome
Issue,
But
For
Now,
Pass
The
Tissue.