SPRING IS IN THE AIR

Deer Gerry, Is it knot an exquisite experience to stand at the half door. With a jam jar of Earl Grey tee clutched in one's slim, slender feminine hand. And watch Spring spread over the bog with vibriant colours and hugh's knot found in any artists palate?
"What splender" I entoned.
"What grandur, what irrepressible beauty is stalking the bog today.
"The pastel hugh's of Spring" I mummered.
"Fill my hart with tarra fierce emotional stirrings".
Love is in the air. I feel it in my fingers. I feel it in my tows. "BEHOLD!" I exaulted.
"The sap is rising in tree, bush and sapling.
Briars, are creeping through the flora and fauna, like veritable snakes. The pregnant buds wool soon give birth. And a profussion of flowers will raise their fragile, etheral indecipherable petals towards the son. Even as we speak. Daisys are tunneling their way out of Coal-diz
The black cloak of Winter has been cast aside. And soon Spring will appear. Wearing a clinging, gauzy,sea-through floral dress. Spring is a lewd, wanton strumpet. Spring entices, teases and, like Uli Geller, starts up many a biological clock. The young heer the call to procreate and gambol wantonly round the Ghallic may pole. The old, who have run out of wild oats. Go clean mad and kan be scene leaping like hairs in the meadows and uttering hoarse, croaking, gutteral mating cries. All barriers and bounderies are swept aside in Spring.
Young girls thong the lanes and bye-ways wearing mini skirts up to their ars-derrieres. And underneath, nothing but a skimpy thong to keep the mild zeyher breezes from their child bearing under-carriages.
Young men strut and prance. Enticing the female with a display of pens in the jacket pocket. Lime green wellingtons with the tops seductively turned down or a sparkling pair of chrome bicycle clips.
How many wains have been born because of chrome bicycle clips? The number is legion.
So, I Rosie Ryan say on too you.
Embrace Spring. Throw your arms around Spring. Take Spring into your hart. But, also beware of Spring. Spring is a notorious remover of inhibitians.
Spring plays on the emotional strings of the female hart. Girls and indeed, women who should no better. Women who wood never say-yes. Now think to themselves, "I mite". Guards are lowered. Gates that were once barred and locked. Now swing freely in the breeze. Know thought is given too tomorrow.
Men lurk like predators in the bracken. Ready to pounce on a fair midden who is smitten by the bewitching lure of Spring.
Old men peep from the rushes. Seeking some old bag who who has lost all sense and reason. And is skipping gaily and doating under hawthorn blossoms looking for La-more.
Spring is a seductor. Spring is the instigater of debauchery and deprativy. Spring is lewdness presonified. Spring is a corrupter. Spring is a period of intemperance. Spring is an occasion of SIN!.
Mind you, having said all that. I hope to get to get down to some serious groaping after Lent is over.
From a Spring frisky,
Rosie Ryan xxx