No one loved walking as much as April.
She would slide on her red wellington boots
And walk wherever the ground would let her.

Mountains were a big favourite of hers,
As were beaches and parks and rivers.
No one loved walking as much as April

And the feeling as the sun smiled at her.
But even when the sky decided to cry
She would slide on her red wellington boots,

Fill her pockets with packets of tissues,
Kiss the Earth with the soul of her soles
And walk wherever the ground would let her.

© Carl Burkitt 2017

This poem is part of a challenge for National Poetry Writing Month 2017 – a different style of poem each day about a woman called April.