April Is In The World Again
April is in the world again,
And all the world is filled with flowers-
Flowers for others, not for me!
For my one flower I cannot see,
Lost in the April showers.
I cannot wake her, though I sing,
And all the birds, for her dear sake,
Fill with their songs the wintry brake;
Ah! could they make her rise again,
What resurrection would be mine!
Is she too tired to help the sun
And all the little stars to shine?
poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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April, Dear April
April, dear April, I beg you come soon –
And bring your sweet primroses too.
Let them join in with the daffodils’ play,
As skies offer sunshine anew.
April, dear April, my blessed spring child,
Ornate in your yellow and white,
Teasing the birds into trilling their songs
And dancing to music of flight.
April, dear April, come enter my dreams
And rid me from cold winter chills.
Banish the rain and those blustery winds
And warm up our countryside hills.
April, dear April, I know you can’t stay -
You have to move on ‘till next year.
And though I shall cherish the glory of summer,
You’ll always be my month most dear.
From: Succumbed to Thinking by Mark Raymond Slaughter, lulu.com
Copyright © Mark Raymond Slaughter 2009
All rights reserved
April April April April
April April April April
April April April April
poem by Mark R Slaughter
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April Rain
The April rain, the April rain,
Comes slanting down in fitful showers,
Then from the furrow shoots the grain,
And banks are fledged with nestling flowers;
And in grey shaw and woodland bowers
The cuckoo through the April rain
Calls once again.
The April sun, the April sun,
Glints through the rain in fitful splendour,
And in grey shaw and woodland dun
The little leaves spring forth and tender
Their infant hands, yet weak and slender,
For warmth towards the April sun,
One after one.
And between shower and shine hath birth
The rainbow's evanescent glory;
Heaven's light that breaks on mists of earth!
Frail symbol of our human story,
It flowers through showers where, looming hoary,
The rain-clouds flash with April mirth,
Like Life on earth.
poem by Mathilde Blind
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Song # 36
In the month of April
I behold the showers
That from heaven fall
So we can have the flowers.
In the April month
You know May is near,
That the birds will sing;
The sky will be so clear.
poem by Luis Estable
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April
April is eternal spring.
She sows the mirth for everything.
Her smiling sun and soothing showers
Create May’s ebullient flowers.
April assuages winter’s noose,
As snow and cold call annual truce.
Warmth and laughter then fill the air,
Replacing a somber season’s stare.
The year without April’s place,
Indeed would be a sterile space.
So thank you April for being here.
Your presence assures a happy year.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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Laughing Rose
If I were gusty April now,
How I would blow at laughing Rose;
I'd make her ribbons slip their knots,
And all her hair come loose.
If I were merry April now,
How I would pelt her cheeks with showers;
I'd make carnations, rich and warm,
Of her vermillion flowers.
Since she will laugh in April's face
No matter how he rains or blows --
Then O that I wild April were,
To play with laughing Rose.
poem by William Henry Davies
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The Birth of Spring (Constanza)
April graces us with showers,
As cold snows melt, their wintry scene
Is changed to many shades of green.
From tender shoots, soon, Spring flowers.
Apollo's face is golden fair....
The scent of spring is in the air.
As blossoms float down from bowers
When gusts of April breezes blow,
They spread below like golden snow.
I delight and watch for hours,
For truly at this time of year
I feel God's presence dwelling here.
Blessed and touched by divine powers.
The joy of springtime here on Earth
Is felt with every flower's birth.
April graces us with showers,
From tender shoots, soon, Spring flowers.
As blossoms float down from bowers
I delight and watch for hours,
Blessed and touched by divine powers.
poem by Connie Marcum Wong
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Home Thoughts from Abroad
April in England–daffodils are growing
By every wayside, golden, tall and fair;
April–and all the little winds are blowing
The scents of springtime through the sunny air.
April in England–God, that we were there!
April in England–and her sons are lying
On these red fields, and dreaming of her shore;
April–we hear the thrushes' songs replying
Each unto each, above the cannons' roar;
April in England–shall we see it more?
April in England–there's the cuckoo calling
Down in her meadows where the cowslip gleams;
April–and little showers are softly falling,
Dimpling the surface of her babbling streams;
April in England–how the shrapnel screams!
April in England–blood and dust and smother,
Screaming of horses, men in agony.
April–full many of thy sons, O Mother,
Never again those dewy dawns shall see.
April in England–God, keep England free!
poem by Norah M. Holland
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In Between
In march I met my wonderlove
Then lost her underneath the april showers
By may we worked out our difference
By june the petals were all plucked from flowers
In between my girl
And there is no other in this world, oh no
I am in between my girl
And its gonna be a brighter day
If shed get the nerve to stay
Hey would you mind standing in for
I only need you for this weekday evening
Saturday, I never knew you
Sorry dear, you really need to understand that I am
In between...
She always gives me the runaround
She left me for a college boy
As sure as the world is round
Next semester shell be back again
Were always off and on again
But for awhile Ill surely keep your number
In between...
song performed by by Verve Pipe
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April Tunes
(To the tune of: April Showers)
Though April showers may come your way,
I will not plagiarize any more today.
So if you're looking for familiar,
Just open your mouth and say,
I will not steal from others, till May!
(To the tune: 3 Blind Mice)
April is nice. April is nice.
I had to say it twice. I had to say it twice.
If you sing along please please do it right.
Don't sing out of tune any day or night.
If you do I will punch out your light.
April is nice. Now I've said it thrice.
(To The Tune: Twinkle Twinkle Little Star)
Tinkle Tinkle Simpson's Bart,
Please lift the seat wherever you are.
If you use a urinal this April dude,
Please stand closer than six foot two.
Tinkle Tinkle Simpson's Bart.
You must sit down if you let a fart.
(To The Tune: Row Row Row Your Boat)
Blow blow blow your nose,
April allergies can be mean.
You better pay attention if
The mucus is red or green.
poem by Robert Edgar Burns
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April 2031
They say the sky used to be blue
I don't quite believe it.
It's probably always been
the color that it is.
And there were cotton candy clouds.
And birds to fly through it.
Just stories we all love to tell our kids.
So I'll close my electronic door
And keep the cold outside.
And hug my aluminium pillow so tight.
And pray the radiation
doesn't make me sick tonight.
No more sky and no more trees.
April 2031
No more oxygen to breathe.
April 2031
No more hate and no more war.
April 2031
Nothing left worth fighting for.
April 2031.
They say there used to be a wind
that wasn't caused by fans
I wonder how it would have felt in my hair
And the nuclear ring
around the moon was caused by man
if it was, then it's much too late to care
So I'll put my safety goggles on
and gaze out at the sun
as the artificial atmostphere machines
give off a constant hum
in a world that's cold and peaceful, april 2031
No more sky and no more trees.
April 2031
No more oxygen to breathe.
April 2031
No more hate and no more war.
April 2031
Nothing left worth fighting for.
April 2031.
As far back as Veitnam,
we should have learned our lesson.
But we closed our eyes
and sent our sons away.
And they told us we were winning
as they sold more ammunition.
Some were angry,
most just looked the other way.
And the night's illuminated
by the endless glowing sand
that swallowed all the oceans
and choked off all the land.
In a world beyond resuscitation
Even by God's hand
No more mountains no more sea
April 2031
No more you and no more me
April 2031
No more music no more songs
April 2031
No God left to blame it on
April 2031
No more children playing
April 2031
No more need for praying
April 2030 One
song performed by by Warrant
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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April Again
April again! the willow wands are yellow
Rose-red the brambles that the passing wind knows,
Comes a robin's note like the note of a 'cello,
And across the valley, the calling of the crows,-
'April again!'
April again! and the marsh birds swinging
Over the rushes that belong to yester-year;
Silver shines the river, and young lips are singing
Songs as old as Eden-as old and as dear;
'April again!'
April again! with a wet wind blowing,
And along the western sky a pathway of gold;
Sounds a call to follow the road we're not knowing,
A new road-a wild road-o'er fairy lands unrolled,-
'April again!'
April again! with its wonder of gladness,
April with its haunting joy, and swift-stinging tears,-
Month of mist and music, and the old moon-madness,
Month of magic fluting, the spirit only hears,-
'April again!'
poem by Virna Sheard
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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 says she
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
poem by David Whalen
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An April Joke
Oh, it was a merry, gladsome day,
When the April Fool met the Queen of May;
She had roguish eyes and golden hair,
And they were a mischief-making pair.
They planned the funniest kind of a joke
On the poor, long-suffering mortal folk;
And a few mysterious words he said,
His fool's cap close to her flower-crowned head.
Then he laughed till he made his cap-bells ring,
At the thought of the topsy-turvy Spring.
''Tis a fair exchange,' he said, with a wink--
'It is!' she said, and what do you think?
The flowers that should bloom in the month of May
Every one of them came on an April day!
And they looked for April showers in vain,
But all through May it did nothing but rain!
poem by Carolyn Wells
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April
April is a cruel time
Even though the sun may shine
And world looks in the shade as it slowly comes away
Still falls the april rain
And the valleys filled with pain
And you cant tell me quite why
As I look up to the grey sky
Where it should be blue
Grey sky where I should see you
Ask why, why it should be so
Ill cry, say that I dont know
Maybe once in a while Ill forget and Ill smile
But then the feeling comes again of an april without end
Of an april lonely as they come
In the dark of my mind I can see all too fine
But there is nothing to be done when I just cant feel the sun
And the springtimes the season of the night
Grey sky where it should be blue
Grey sky where I should see you
Ask why, why it should be so
Ill cry, say that I dont know
I dont know
song performed by by Deep Purple
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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~April Fool~
April flipped herself in
Like a brand new paragraph
For i'd left off in March
And winter 'twas still the subject matter
The frost all but got me
Hypothermia of feelings
Once felt
Like coming into a heated June
My feelings they began to melt
But April flipped me in
Much like an April Fool
Vunerable and needy
Forgetful of what i had
Learned in school
And so another paragraph
Was formed
Along with the rain you did bring
Remind me-Mother Earth-
If you will
That not all flowers bloom
In the Spring
Aware that the showers
Are supposed to bring
Some Flowers that bloom in May
But ne'er prepared for
Story-tellers with eloquent words
That ne'er mean what they say
The flowers that later bloom
With brillance-aroma and Light
Take out the chill and hold on me still
During a most troubling dark of night
poem by Theodora Onken
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An April Love
Nay, be not June, nor yet December, dear,
But April always, as I find thee now:
A constant freshness unto me be thou,
And not the ripeness that must soon be sere.
Why should I be Time's dupe, and wish more near
The sobering harvest of thy vernal vow?
I am content, so still across thy brow
Returning smile chase transitory tear.
Then scatter thy April heart in sunny showers;
I crave nor Summer drouth nor Winter sleet:
As Spring be fickle, so thou be as sweet;
With half-kept promise tantalise the hours;
And let Love's frolic hands and woodland feet
Fill high the lap of Life with wilding flowers.
poem by Alfred Austin
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I Said--I Care Not
I said-I care not if I can
But look into her eyes again,
But lay my hand within her hand
Just once again.
Though all the world be filled with snow
And fire and cataclysmal storm,
I'll cross it just to lay my head
Upon her bosom warm.
Ah! bosom made of April flowers,
Might I but bring this aching brain,
This foolish head, and lay it down
On April once again!
poem by Richard Le Gallienne
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I Owe A Debt To Spring
Oh, I owe a debt to spring,
She brought me wild flowers
And hardy daffodils
Beautiful velvet green carpeted hills.
She brought the mist of April showers,
With the promised bloom of May flowers.
Birds came back to sing,
Oh, I owe a debt to spring...
Seeing the colors of a rainbow dancing
Across the sky,
Spring came in with a lullaby.
I owe a debt to spring for
The love you bring,
To me my love,
To me.
Written Feb.21,2008
poem by Dorothy Holmes
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The winds April cloak
The wind shall wear his April cloak
So all the flowers will laugh and poke
To see his dancing sprig of spring,
Admiral-on a butterflies wing.
Beneath his feet trees bow newly green,
Little clouds whiten on the glowing sheen,
for all the world is healthier in an April wind
Or so the chirping nestling sparrow's sing.
poem by Mark Heathcote
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A Flower for April in June
As I was
slipping down
those stony roads,
this red April
flower
caught my eye.
It stood apart
like a general
among the army
flowers.
I looked again and thought,
Red was not accurate.
It was more
crimson.
Like blossom blood.
A speck drowned
in green.
Bathed in
golden noon,
this red April
flower was
dancing in
June.
poem by Angelica Dela Cruz
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