April Days
Days of witchery,subtly sweet,
When every hell anstree finds heart,
When witer and spring like lovers meet
In the mist of noon and part---
In the April days.
Nights when the wood frogs faintly peep
Once-twice-and then are still,
And the woodpeckers' martial voices sweep
Like bugle notes from hill to hill-
Through the pulseless haze
Days when the soil is warm with rain,
And through the wood the shy wind steals,
Rich with the pine and the poplar smell,
And the joyous earth like a dancer reels-
Through the April days!
Springtime
When springtime comes upon us
Filling freshness in the air
Showing natures own beauty
With flowers blooming everywhere.
Trees start slowly budding
Opening to the sun's warm rays
Start the birds to singing
Touching our hearts in these ways.
The grass starts turning greener
Pushing up out of the ground.
Nature is waking up
Sending forth her beautiful sound.
Kenng Rutherford
