April Days

Days of witchery,subtly sweet,

When every hell anstree finds heart,

When witer and spring like lovers meet

In the mist of noon and part---

In the April days.

Nights when the wood frogs faintly peep

Once-twice-and then are still,

And the woodpeckers" martial voices sweep

Like bugle notes from hill to hill-

Through the pulseless haze

Days when the soil is warm with rain,

And through the wood the shy wind steals,

Rich with the pine and the poplar smell,

And the joyous earth like a dancer reels-

Through the April days!

Springtime

When springtime comes upon us

Filling freshness in the air

Showing natures own beauty

With flowers blooming everywhere.

Trees start slowly budding

Opening to the sun"s warm rays

Start the birds to singing

Touching our hearts in these ways.

The grass starts turning greener

Pushing up out of the ground.

Nature is waking up

Sending forth her beautiful sound.

Kenng Rutherford