Spring Fever (Poetry)

I looked on as you got ready,
eyes unnaturally bright,
china cheeks twin spots of colour
and your breathing fast and light.

Were you sickening for something,
was your agitation due
to some sudden flush of fever
indicating cold or flu?

Then the headlamps in the driveway
and a knock that thrilled the door
swept you dancewards for the evening,
brought you home again at four

when the tell-tale creak of stair treads
advertised your slow ascent,
dizzy with a dose of rapture,
face aglow with wonderment

as you babbled, incoherent,
half-delirious and faint
like a victim freshly smitten
with poor Juliet’s complaint.

So to bed, with dawn a-breaking,
down from Love’s ecstatic high
and adrift, your thoughts like feathers
floating through an April sky.