And so the storm came

As we all knew it would

Bringing lashings of rain

Leaving lashings of mud

It says ‘April is near

And don’t you forget

You want flowers in May?

Then this month will be wet!’

So the rain is accepted

With lightning and thunder

And the animals search

For something to take cover under

And the sweet spring flowers

Got battered and bruised

Outside of the window

Where a young poet mused

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