April Calls

April calls afar,

Crystal lanes, each brittle star

Become a vanished art.

Spinning lilied looms,

Emerald carpets sprigged with blooms

Invite the errant heart.


Silver birches shyly strum

Their harps with artifice.

Age-old feet slow-creep,

But pulsing sap bids old hearts leap

With youth at April's kiss.