AT APRIL'S VERGE

 

AT APRIL’S VERGE

At April’s verge

Through all my years

I say in emeralds

Crystal clear

It’s April I longed most to be

Green as jade and full of shade

And soft and rippling

Water dipping

Out the gourd of beauty’s self

How could God give us such wealth

And birdsong most acutely felt.

Wreathe me a wreathe of all the flowers

April is my only dower

Madrigal most fitly sung

Refreshment to the heart;

And rung like a peal of bells so bright

Even in the midnight of the world.

mary angela douglas 31 march 2024