Time for Poetry & Stout

When the winter sheds its scaly skin
And slinks up to the hilltop once again
We gather sticks and horns with it to clout
Then it is the time for poetry and stout

And as the warming sun the snow does slice
And the slithering season recedes with melting ice
And manic love begins to stretch and sprout
Then it is the time for poetry and stout

And when the children with their drums and packs
Parade along yale terrace to and back
As a rite of spring, establishing the serpentine route
Then it is the time for poetry and stout

So look not for invitations to partake
But gather up your poems to kill the snake
And herald glorious spring with whisper, song or shout
For now it is the time for poetry and stout

-- Michael O'Connor