Still an irritating wind;
Vestiges of stubborn grey –
Jibing us of recent winter blight.
It’s coming though – like perky breasts
Pushing through a blouse –
Teasing, pleasing in it’s tantalising play:
Warmth of youth in April sun –
Simmering off depression,
Brains retuned; remapped for fun.
April is a portal –
Smoothly transitions
Delicate dispositions – suchlike mine,
Easing hunched bodies into
Summery smiles.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
April April April April April April April April April April
April April April April April April April April April April
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem