Happy National Poetry Month!
April winter, how I hate thee
Tiresomely I do berate thee
Though the earth is warmer, older
April gives the coldest shoulder
May’s the girl I like to chase
With her sun bright pretty face
But April’s come to make undone
The progress March had just begun
To comfort me, I do remember
As it blizzards like December:
Winter’s might could be laid to waste
If spring once sprung would just make haste
