April...A hopeless romantic

Rain rings spreading wide
Like liquid blossoms opening
To the rise of April’s tide

And if one listens closely
to her gentle wind
and harkens to her showers

One hears April stealing in
To waken
Nascent flowers

Always it begins, as just a gentle patter
A tender touch
to Mother Natures shoulder

As if to say, there’s naught to matter
Winter’s time is done
No more… will it grow colder

I’ll slake the thirst
Of frosted earth
And rouse the sleeping seeds

And I’ll pay no mind
To what the kind
And even grace the weeds

My dewy touch
My gentle morning mist
Will caress both fields and bowers

Imbued as such
With Springtime’s kiss
And the romance of April Showers

Author's Note

Rain on my parade!