It's actually beginning to feel a lot like spring. Growing up, it was always a delight to hear my dad recite Spring is Sprung. I'll have to remind him.
Spring is sprung,
The grass is riz,
The boid is on the wing—
My woid, how absoid!
I thought the wing was on the boid.
The grass is riz,
The boid is on the wing—
My woid, how absoid!
I thought the wing was on the boid.
I came across this wonderful tribute to Spring cover design by the lovely Maira Kalman for the New Yorker.
copyright Maira Kalman for March 26, 2012 New Yorker cover |