Let It Be April
If I have only one more day to spend
with you, let it be April and the trees
afoam with bud and blossom, and no end
to petals drifting down the fragrant breeze.
Let it be April, and each buttercup
filled to the brim with golden benison,
while all the dogwood parasols are up
to shade young ferns and trilliums from the sun.
Then Let us wander slowly, arm in arm,
among the violets and daffodil,
our senses saturate with April charm
as we climb winding paths around the hill.
Let it be perfect, and our love be pure,
essence of April, ever to endure.
A Wandering Man
Oh, never wed a wandering man
When fields are white with clover,
You'll rue the day and rue his way
Before the winter's over.
Oh, never let a wandering man
Ensnare your heart and sever
Your ties with home, and bid you roam
Close by his side forever.
No, never wed a wandering man
Unless you feel that singing
And rainbow gleams of distant dreams
Can keep your spirit winging.