Mother Nature in her childish manner,
In her mischievous, frisky demeanor,
Millions of miles away from the sun,
Plays with the clouds, a day filled with fun.
She hides the sun and deceives the eyes.
Springtime is a myth so full of lies.
She sends the snow down for its last hurrah,
In rebellion to what all the prophets foresaw.
April arrives at the same time each year,
A harbinger proclaiming summer’s near.
But nature’s child has a different plan,
To blow it away with her big arctic fan.