Those dazy days, a dreamlike haze;
The blossoms romancing as critters crop up dancing,
The humble ray glancing through garish trees;
It takes a mere few leaves to notice;
That supernal psychosis, incensing the air,
Strumming each nose hair and spritzing my eyeballs;
For the ceremonial sneeze is now upon us;
Awaken, subconscious, in one...two...three...achoo!
Blast, you fool! You did it again!
Must I fall invariably for such countenance?
Year by year, your grandeur taking me out;
But not again! No sir! Not this time around!
For I've been down this road countless times before;
I'm taking my stand now, I'm walking through that door;
No turning back, no turning back,
But to revel in the sweet scent of revenge;
Why not stop and smell the roses? they said;
Why not lie back and delight in such redolence?
For it takes one to know one;
All the best, my flatulence.

© JLaine