Earth will not suffer long, my love
Her filigree of ice
Will fall prey to a song, my love
Of April’s avarice
A glutton for green joy-oh-joy
And plumage, purple-gold
She gathers frigid ‘boy-oh-boy’
Into a Story Told
And waltzes like a woman,
oh
Too long of sun bereft
Across the dormant garden, oh
With magic in each step
…to dance a dueling promenade
Caught between March and May
An ebb-and-flow of Hope Betrayed
And laughter’s gladdest play
For she is April’s Angel-Queen
She melts forbidden snow
And spins a winsome world of green
From winter’s overflow
And where Her white wing-feathers fell
A yellow halo spills
To waken in the dryad's dell
The first spring-peeper trills
© Janet Martin
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