In the early April

In April, when the bright flowers do bloom,

I wandered forth to drink the fresh, cool air.

Beside fair ice-stream, amidst perfume,

In reverie, I found beauty dwelling there.

An old friend of mine in his native costume 

Did hunt the trout while it was still dewy.

Young wives with baskets, to the hills they flew

For to gather the wild mushies and hilly 

Dandelions, their tales of love they shared;

As breezes from the isles brought new joys.

In the early April, past memories fond arise,

Beneath the moon, on grass of silver hue.

In sleep on dewy ground, I found my peace;

As April's charms and memories never cease.

©Poet Affaq 


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