WELCOME TO SPRING

Spring, you are welcome, for you are the friend of

Fathers of all little girlies and chaps.

Spring, you are welcome, for you mean the end of

Bundling them up in their cold-weather wraps.

Breathes there a parent of masculine gender,

One whose young hopeful is seven or less,

Who never has cursed the designer and vender

Of juvenile-out-of-doors-winter-time dress?

Leggings and overcoat, rubbers that squeeze on,

Mittens and sweater a trifle too small;

Not in the lot is one thing you can ease on,

One that's affixed with no trouble at all.

Spring, you are welcome, thrice welcome to father;

Not for your flowers and birds, I'm afraid,

As much as your promised relief from the bother

Of bundling the kid for the daily parade.