"in Just-spring when the world is mud-luscious..."

ee cummings wrote the most wonderful poems about spring:

in Just-

spring       when the world is mud-
luscious the little lame balloonman


whistles       far       and wee


and eddyandbill come
running from marbles and
piracies and it's
spring


when the world is puddle-wonderful


the queer
old balloonman whistles
far       and       wee
and bettyandisbel come dancing


from hop-scotch and jump-rope and


it's
spring
and
the
goat-footed


balloonMan       whistles
far
and
wee (-ee cummings)

I always loved that poem, because it so beautifully describes the playful nature of spring when birds are starting to nest, buds are popping up out of their winter beds, and the trees are enveloping the world once again in their vibrant greens. "Just-spring" when it's at its ripest and most lush. And Pan, (or in this case, the "little lame balloonMan") is giving us all permission to leap headlong into it all, and succumb, once again, to that annual malady, Spring Fever.