April

by Ted Robinson
So here we are in April, in showy, blowy April,
In frowsy, blowsy April, the rowdy dowdy time
In soppy, sloppy April, in wheezy breezy April,
In ringing, stinging April, with a singing swinging rhyme.
The smiling sun of April on the violets is focal,
The sudden showers of April seek the dandelion out;
The tender airs of April make the local yokel vocal,
And he raises rustic ditties with a most melodious shout.
So here we are in April, in tipsy gypsy April,
In showery, flowery April, the twinkly, sprinkly days;
In tingly, jingly April, in highly wily April,
In mighty, flighty April with its highty-tighty ways!
The duck is fond of April, and the clucking chickabiddy
And other barnyard creatures have a try at caroling;
There's something in the air to turn a stiddy kiddy giddy,
And even I am forced to raise my croaking voice and sing.
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