Yes the sun is shining
Yes bees are bumbling drunk
Yes there are buds
Shooting green
Firing first shots 
With flashes of colour
The eager crowds
Of showy blossom
Shouting to be heard
Yes the trees are singing again
With birds
Their leaves forming choirs
Shaking on their shabby green
Robes long discarded 
On the floor
Yes the stink of wild garlic
Cracks the air 
Like a whip
Yes the clock ran past you
At a clip
Beckons you
With evenings
Lighter on the shoulders
Easier on the eye
The musk of dust
In the air
Brings skies
Brushed amber
Bruised plum
I know 
There are rumblings
Things stirring
Outside and in

But this is a false spring -
There are chill winds to come

We know April brings changeable weather
My darling - it’s going to get worse before it gets better

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