Peacocking

Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,

Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,

Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:

Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!

(OK, I know that Spring for some doesn't start til 20th/21st March, but It's a sunny day today, and the crocuses are popping up,- oh, and this cartoon of mine is in the current Spectator magazine.)