April, Come She Will.

April, in my mind, is the month of primroses.
My garden is awash with them, so much so, that I leave the grass to grow and the wild flowers to colonise in one half of the garden. These delicate flowers, each petal a heart shape of palest yellow with a deeper coloured centre, are without doubt favourites of mine.

At this time of year I am always reminded of one of my favourite songs.

April, Come She Will, written by Paul Simon of Simon and Garfunkel fame.

Paul Simon was always drawn by the folk scene and this is based, not on a short lived relationship, but on an old saying about the cuckoo.

The cuckoo makes a remarkable journey from Africa each spring to lay her eggs in a host nest, usually arriving at the end of April. Numbers have declined drastically over recent years, in the UK, so I wait with baited breath in the hope that I will once more hear the haunting call as she flies through the woodland.

Here is the original folk law poem

THE CUCKOO
In April come he will
In May he sings all day
In June he'll change his tune
In July home he'll fly
In August go he must



April, Come She Will. by Paul Simon


April
come she will
When streams are ripe and swelled with rain;

May,
She will stay,
Resting in my arms again.

June,
she'll change her tune,
In restless walks she'll prowl the night;

July,
She will fly
And give no warning of her flight.

August,
die she must,
The autumn winds blow chilly and cold;

September
I'll remember,
A love once new has now grown old.


Many thanks for all the fabulous comments on my April Fools entry yesterday.