Difficult Trade-off

The Gulf in April, oh what bliss,
warm air held back by winter front,
is banished, but that phase I'll miss.
For a different pleasure, shunt.

Bright sunny time of student's break,
desirable of all the year,
I'll miss--can't eat and have the cake.
Wisconsin's April will appear.

I know the pussy willow waits,
crouching, hunkered in its dark case,
dry vines twisted around the gates,
will wake; white blood roots claim their place.

I'd miss Mayflowers lifting leaves,
to show their innocent pastels,
and how the mystical light weaves,
a fairyland in morning dells.

Streams rippling by dry reeds and rocks,
too cool to wade in, tease the ear,
laugh; ice and snow have shed their frocks,
and dance to know that April's here.

I'd miss the spring show, progress laud,
the gathering at local sites.
With Wisconsin's waking up time, awed,
I'll by-pass Florida's balmy nights.