April Adjunct

The birds now build a nest
And milk comes to the breast
The world moves on and I
Bemoan the by and by
The bees buzz on the air
The fox prepares his lair
The proud hawk floats on high
As tears rise to the eye
The buds sway on the trees
Sweet songs waft on the breeze
The whippoorwills apprise
Of some soul near demise
The clouds move gently on
And soon the spring is gone
No good to wonder why
I look at you and sigh

© Loubert S Suddaby. All Rights Reserved.

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