For me first day of spring still Mo' betta blues, Blue waves like trombones tuning on stage, blue moods like decdent clouds pathing the way, Sanctioned subtle dips to nestle in and curves tha mold round u to cushion wit delight, like harmonious blue birds snuggled in for the night, Misty blue ripples shadowed down my spine, jus before reaching my sweet grapevine, yet moist n juiced like fine wine, savored shelf life but still in its prime, realizing I just can't be Blue all the damn time