My April Lady
When down the stair at morning
The sunbeams round her float ,
Sweet rivulets of laughter
Are rippling in her throat ;
The gladness of her greeting
Is gold without alloy ;
And in the morning sunlight
I think her name is Joy.
When the evening twilight
The quiet book -room lies ,
We read the sad old ballads ,
While from her hidden eyes
The tears are falling , falling ,
That give her heart relief ;
And in the eveninh twilight ,
I think her name is Grief.
My little April lady ,
Of sunshine and of flowers
She weaves the old spring majic ,
And breaks my heart in flowers !
But when her moods are ended ,
She nestles like a dove ;
Then , by the pain and rapture ,
I know her name is Love .
Henry van Dyke
I hope everybody enjoys the writings I select as the book is filled with many , by in my selections I hope that my inner self speaks to you through words of others , that I would adopt to be my own . I know when I started Secrets of the Universe here some of you thought I had lost it , least well my Speaking to George Bush , Hillary or Jeb Bush . I bet when Martin Luther started his crusade for the "Black Man" people also thougth him to be Wrong . Duck has a plan for this industry that will soon be unveiled . If time is willing and the plan is Sound it will be heard!
Thanks for reading ; Jerry Whitfield
