On this eve of first April
We cannot but wonder
Whether fools we are by nature
Or partisan glad tidings we keep

March has nearly passed
Just moments left to go
Before we turn the page
Another month we must ready to go

They speak of spring
Its renewing praises we sing
Yet monarch butterflies lie so far ahead
Warm weather surely awaits us all

Sometimes I sit in hopeless wonder
Wishing intermittent patches of sun
Could only grow
Filling us complete, inside and out

Spring of course waits no person
Not a one ever so worthy
And so I sit and patiently wait
Spring, its promises, never can break