Spring Tramping

Spring's chaos's come, when thawed snakes braid 
And Sun's bold boots stroll dusts as cozy 
As the pelvic bed where our mortared bones are laid 
(In mortal mixing snug love mists hazy);
And every nosy bud shoves a shaggy muzzle 
Into the motley glory old God abandoned,
Romping with folly's pollens and playful fuzzes 
Above winter's withered sticks cracked to ground. 

Alone where mowers have managed the meadow,
Tramping past tidied detritus thrifty blades array,
Shamble-shanked, my aimless stride displays
A mulish insistence for day-dreamy rambles,
A wish that all the world's walked fallows would follow
My cragged return to disordered brambles.