April, A Hopeless Romantic

Written by: David Whalen

Rain rings spreading wide Like liquid blossoms opening To the rise of April’s tide And if one listens closely to her gentle wind and harkens to her showers One hears April stealing in To waken Nascent flowers Always it begins, as just a gentle patter A tender touch to Mother Natures shoulder As if to say, there’s naught to matter Winter’s time is done No more… will it grow colder I’ll slake the thirst Of frosted earth, says she And rouse the sleeping seeds And I’ll pay no mind To what the kind And even grace the weeds My dewy touch My gentle morning mist Will caress both fields and bowers Imbued as such With Springtime’s kiss And the romance of April Showers