(3 July 1871 – 26 September 1940 / Monmouthshire / Wales)

Laughing Rose

If I were gusty April now,
How I would blow at laughing Rose;
I'd make her ribbons slip their knots,
And all her hair come loose.

If I were merry April now,
How I would pelt her cheeks with showers;
I'd make carnations, rich and warm,
Of her vermillion flowers.

Since she will laugh in April's face
No matter how he rains or blows --
Then O that I wild April were,
To play with laughing Rose.

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Comments (2)

I LIKE IT 😎🤓
amazing poem very nice i lovev it