April
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Ushering in the tepid days of Spring;
subservient to Mother Nature's call,
April is the reason; sweet songbirds sing.
Flowers await the rains April will bring
from a mere drizzle to a full-blown squall;
ushering in the tepid days of Spring.
As the migrating birds once more take wing
and the wild geese gather for the long haul;
April is the reason; sweet songbirds sing.
April melts the icicles that still cling,
and snow covering the colors of Fall;
ushering in the tepid days of Spring.
Being born in April, I've felt Her sting,
and yet, although She sometimes plays hardball,
April is the reason; sweet songbirds sing.
As winter wains, April wets everything,
wearing misty drops as Her morning shawl.
Ushering in the tepid days of Spring,
April is the reason; sweet songbirds sing.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2020
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