April Wind

Tonight her voice is low and cold

She moans outside my door

Her breath that flows with flecks of gold

Has found another shore

Tonight she sings a sullen tune

With chilling arms of white

She garbs the sun-bathed hills of noon

In melancholy light

Tonight her breeze of mellow tones

Turns icy as she speaks

She lashes out against the stones

Which grace the winding creeks

She sweeps into the hollow cave

And mocks the naked willow

She blows across the lonely grave

And broods above my pillow

Tonight I do not fight her chill

Her low perpetual moan

Tonight I’ll dance with her until

My feet are cold as stone

Tonight, though I would choose a song

Of warm dew-laden sighs

I know it won’t be very long

Before her music dies

Tonight she laughs with eyes half-shut

Yet I am not encumbered

She flaunts her frosty garments but

I know her days are numbered

April wind, I’ve learned a truth

As I observe your candor

You are fleeting as my youth

Wasted breaths of grandeur

All Rights Reserved

Janet Martin

I have to confess,

her chill and her snow

are a little hard to take

compared to the warmth

of a week ago!!!!