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April Fool

By John I. Blair

Some elixir in the honeyed air,
A balm upon the breeze
Has drifted in a window
And made me whisper “please.”

I preen in every mirror,
Judge everything that shows,
Comb my thinning hair,
Trim unruly brows.

Taking myself in hand,
I flog a dandy’s stride
From my arthritic legs
And tilt my head with pride

For, setting reason far aside
In April my fool is hot to be
Letting loose the randy youth
Who lurks inside of me.

©2004 John I. Blair  

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