I'D Gladly Sing a Song For Spring

I do not write in April, because that’s the month that comes before May. I do not write in April, because then June would arrive in total disarray! I do not write in April, now, although I have before this day. I do not write in April, actually, although with words I’m known to play. I do not write in April, when there’s ANZAC’s, Easter and Palm Sunday. I do not write in April, and from that delicate decree I’ll not go astray. I do not write in April, but exactly why, I can’t quite say. I do not write in April, and it’s for the best, that here, I don’t betray. I do not write in April, although I do read papers from my in-tray. I do not write in April, so you won’t find any papers in my out-tray. I do not write in April, when I’m outside whiling my time away. I do not write in April, for that fills my insides with strange dismay! I do not write in April, for I’ll not wear a wreath like a gloomy lay! I do not write in April, but I’ll cheerfully whistle down your way. I do not write in April come whatever, come what may. I do not write in April. I do not write in April I say! I do not write in April, but I’d gladly sing a song for Spring to stay.