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 firs white butterfly;
With plum trees misted sudden
Silver on the sky...
One may only listen-
Hand at throat-to rapture
More lyrically lovely
Than any song may capture.
Kitchen Sonnets by Ethel Romig Fuller
Welcome to Poetry Month.
Since I do love poetry, I hope to write
something along the way just for you.
In the meantime, poetry comes in many forms.
I believe just walking outside and taking in
the beauty of the day is a form of poetry.
Enjoy each day with JOY in your heart.
Welcome to Poetry Month.
Since I do love poetry, I hope to write
something along the way just for you.
In the meantime, poetry comes in many forms.
I believe just walking outside and taking in
the beauty of the day is a form of poetry.
Enjoy each day with JOY in your heart.
