April is spirit risen from the tomb
That winter held in cold eternity
Since autumn-death and devastated bloom.
Now, resurrection has set April free,
A light-green tender month with silver ways,
A thing of beauty from the bleak cocoon
To brighten us throughout oncoming days.
April is apple-blossoms on the moon,
April is honeybees on sawbriar tendrils,
April is eager packs of young clean winds
That ripple wheat and rustle leaf-cloud hills.
April is spirit and her beauty binds
Our hearts in unison of spring-clean love
Enough to make our winter spirits rise
Like tender percoon from the loam-rich cover,
Like singing birds into bright April skies.