Love is…
a sign that spring can’t be far away.

My Heart Makes Its Own Weather

My heart makes its own weather,
So let the world grow gray;
My heart starts saying April
When April’s far away.
In spite of rain and reason
And winter on the wing,
My heart has its own season,
And my heart says it is spring!
Blow wind and bitter weather,
Come care and whistling cold,
An April heart will never
Grow gray or crabbed or old.
Time is a wrinkled treason;
Age is an old untruth
Heart, keep your changeless season,
Green April, golden youth!
by Dillet Freeman