A roving Springs first morning Freshness unmistaking The larks early call Their whistling did befall A roving along this wondrous path I viewed a chiselled epitaph Etched into splendid Larch Read 'beware the Ides of March' A soothsayers warning Was unexpected this Spring morning This is so nondescript Had I stumbled upon a Crypt This isn't a Roman arch It's merely a tree of Larch This is not ancient Rome This is not a catacomb Twas the 15th day of March I found the secret of the Larch Words weren't scribed by other factors than a plethora of actors It was the scene of a play of Ceasers fateful day where Brutus and Cassius Did hatch plan to kill Julius A roving first day of Spring Where Butterflies Flutter, bees did sting Down wondrous path i passed Where Ceaser breathed his last thank you