No April Words
There are no words for saying
How wistful is the push
Of April through the budding
Of a lilac bush.
There are no notes for making
A little elfin air
Of new leaves on a willow;
No phrases to compare
With tapering blue hyacinths;
The first white butterfly;
With plum trees misted sudden
Silver on the sky. . .
One may only listen--
Hand at throat-to rapture
More lyrically lovely
Than my song may capture.
from Kitchen Sonnets by Ethel Romig Fuller
As April comes to an end what JOY's have been displayed in your part of the world?
I am totally enraptured by the pink blossoms, the sway of the daffodils, the clusters
of grape hyacinths, and the return of the robins song.
