RAIN LOVES APRIL, and vice versa

April Rain Song

- Poem by Langston Hughes

Let the rain kiss you
Let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops
Let the rain sing you a lullaby...

The rain makes still pools on the sidewalk
The rain makes running pools in the gutter
The rain plays a little sleep song on our roof at night
(And, I love the rain).

"FOOL ME NEVER" will always stay best!

FOOLS

They'll 'always be with us',

Much like the poor;

Born of imprudence

And con-man's liqueur.

They think themselves 'wise',

Yet the angels know better;

Tread, as they do, from

These idiots' fetters.

Today is THEIR day,

Say both mountains and moors;

Though, lacking in brains,

[Is 'no sense', de rigueur???]

 Poem written by L.P.-G.

THIS PENULTIMATE 'LAST DAY'

This penultimate 'last day' of March:
Yet, warmth is only sanctioned

in the southern climes;

...Which seems such a shame

To those captured by fate

in the truncated, unfortunate north.

Godspeed to April's charms;

A fourth month of wildly fickle

Earth-tones, blooms, and

Cherry blossoms...

I very squarely commend

The eastern red-bud,

The woodland streams and dizzying

Array of yellow daffodils.

And, never prone to reticence

(When praise for the small tokens

Of Ostara merit a certain generosity),

Idleness of heart is most unwelcome.

Thus, put on your very finest

vernal dress and verdant gloves, April;
I'll bring the candles, you bring the book:

Simply open it to better days ahead!

Poem written by L.P.-G.

GERMS KNOW THEIR OWN 'WARFARE'

While still a 'kid' in medical school,

A class that grossed me out,

Was one in which the "germs" emerged

By  lectures bearing clout...

Our teachers bade us

" Wash your hands ! "

(If handling certain 'stuff ')

They further warned us

'bout some things

That [then] did not  seem 'tough'

But now the wisdom

(Of their ways) is piquant,

Say the least:

Pandemics have  a mighty strength...

Oh! Fearsome, forceful beast!!

poem by L.P.-G.

IT'S TRUE: WE 'ALL' COUNT THE LAST DAYS OF WINTER!!

I count the days until the

gaze of a new chapter holds sway;

March, you dally 'round

Winter's flings

on  temperate wings!

'Today' breathes in sleet and rime in collective consternation:

To leave bitter climes and wave to a slightly warmer world is so alluring.

Leap-year draws its cards but plays them close to the vest;

Lion or lamb... lamb or lion...

Who heralds softer Spring hours?

Stronger hopes? More winsome flowers?

poem written by L.P.-G.