Mad March is eager to blow in,
But wait! He's put on hold.
Mean February stole a day
For Leap Year, so I'm told!
This often makes March furious!
And he roars in like a lion.
He demonstrates his strength to all.
That fact: there's no denyin'.
Mad March is fickle, just the same.
He changes moods so quickly.
One day the sun shines brightly.
The next, the snow lies thickly.
Mad March can sometimes be so mean.
And he roars and blows and bellows.
His temper tantrums are quite known
Among his calendar fellows.
He'll make the world sit up, take note.
Mad March will have his say.
He'll not give up his winter wiles
Well past the twenty-first day.
Mad March is not called that for naught.
He'll tire out everyone.
He'll make them March the full month through,
Right to day thirty-one.
© Helen Dowd