Sonnet--To Dana's Beloved (and Finished!) Jaywalkers

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more woolly--and thou I did create.
Rain, winds, and hail do ruin Boston’s May,
And leave us soggy, grumpy, and irate.
Sometimes too hot the eye of heaven shines,
But this year is his gold complexion dimmed;
And all our hopes of springtime joy decline,
Leaving tulips drooping, trees bare-limbed.
But thy warm purpleness shall never fade
Thy lovely zigzag stripe I will extol;
Although, I must admit, I am afraid
You may one day develop—gasp—a hole!
But, darn it, you will have my guarantee
This blog forever will give life to thee.