I am an April fool…
Mired in March’s mud
I look up—and there she comes
sashaying down Spring’s new path,
green skirt swinging,
merry with laughter and
promising a thousand delights.
My heart leaps!
Lovely April—soft and eager,
with tresses of sunshine gold,
cheeks glowing rose-pink,
her eyes bluebell bright.
Honey scents her warm breath,
and the sweetness of violets
cloaks as she sways along.
I simply can’t help myself—
just like always, I fall again,
head-over-heels in love.
Perhaps, as scoffers claim,
there is no fool like an old fool,
though why should we listen
to those who remain in winter?
I say consider this instead—
hearts and buds now open freely,
blooming in vernal magic.
What better season
for falling in love than Spring,
where beauty begins
with time ahead to grow?
April appears, the land renews;
covenant follows planted seed
as heady promise fills the air.
The rhythm of the season
makes is own music—from
singing birds to beating hearts.
As for me…didn’t I tell you?
I am April’s fool.