The Month of April

They say the second month of spring
In all its glory is the cruelest one
But that does not have a true ring
When warmth spreads from the sun

As the soft clouds and gentle rain
Bring new growth green and bright
With blooming color that is dreary's bane
As multihued flowers reach up toward sunlight

There are gentle songs floating in the air
As the chorus of flying birds sing
Roosting in the budding trees without a care
In great joy their voices rise and ring

There is nothing that is cruel
In the month that returns
That which is warm and bright to rule
As the great world continues its turns