April calls afar,
Crystal lanes, each brittle star
Become a vanished art.
Spinning lilied looms,
Emerald carpets sprigged with blooms
Invite the errant heart.
Joy-adventuresome
Silver birches shyly strum
Their harps with artifice.
Age-old feet slow-creep,
But pulsing sap bids old hearts leap
With youth at April's kiss.
