April Showers

Ms. May, with your two-lips of pink,

I pray pardon overstepping your hedge.

I see you associating with daisies

pushed from the dirt with last season’s reign.

Benevolent are they, so generous in stamen and pistol,

eager to endow the future with nectar.

Petals of lush cream and stems of green.

Even now, gracious you stay, in heinous lore.

Rage blooms unmanageable each year

And I un-bed the mockery of what should have been instead your bouquet.

To kneel once more in restoration

And water your seeds in tears.

Evil hands can no more take your life

Then mine can conceal your beauty six feet underground.

I whisper my secrets to the bees

Until I can talk to you again myself.