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Not the cruellest month |
So April is the cruellest month. What rot. The tulips are ablaze; the quince’s blossom Sets a standard for the pear; the winds toss Acer branches, rock newly planted pots But don’t disturb the crabs about to flower. Forget-me-nots are rioting, polyan- Thus jostle for attention, and pansies Relish the sweetness in an April shower. But still we wait for springtime warmth. Seeds set In trays and beds are cowering, need our Protection, can’t be let out at night, get Tucked up with fleece and hour by patient hour They doze… and then, in clumps, or careful rows, Stems, leaves, sap, cells - all shout, Come on, let’s go! ©The contents of this page are copyright protected.
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