When April's sun shines and sings
there's a certain merry mischief
in the precise deft unfolding
of every pale green leaf.

Even world weary hearts dance
as late winter’s shadows lift,
exulting in a stolen chance
to unwrap a precious gift

To hear another's breathing,
to catch a hidden smile,
to see a return in a leaving,
is to dance while life is fragile.

A finest moment stretches
into the fullest hour,
which in turn then reaches
a week, a month, a year.

A life so large it must be lived,
can't waste a precious day
while earth's colours are still vivid
we must take time to play.