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"Wilson's Warbler"

"HURDY-BURDY DAYS"

By Martha Haskell Clark

April walks beside me still in budded cloak of brown,

Primrose gold above the hill the lengthened sunsets burn;

Every wind a minstrel goes, singing through the town,

For hurdy-gurdy days are here - and May is at the turn!

May is at the turning in a blur of hill - blaze haze,

There's the hint of leaf - smoke drifting down the dingy city ways.

There's a flash of bluebird weather through a rift of rainy skies,

And the dawn of dreams rememered in a gray world's eye

A battered hurdy - gurdy at the corner of the street,

Old tunes, forgotten tunes, and lilac - breath and fern, haunting sweet,

And every day is yesterday - Youth is at the turn!

May is at the turning like a gipsy in the lane,

With leaf - mist at the girdle, and her blown hair pearled with rain;

There's the green of new grass creeping up the roadway from the south,

And the curve of love and laughter on a gray world's mouth.

March ran whistling down the hill, the gamin of the year,

April but a child at school, with life and love to learn 

Sudden through the city - gray, riotous and dear

Hurdy - gurdy strum the dusk - May is at the turn!

May is at the turning in a burst of tulip - flame,

With a spattering of cowslip - gold to show the road she came;

There's a young moon's silver sickle - gleam through orchard boughs astart,

And forgotten love - songs throbbing in a gray world's heart.

I seen a pair of Wilson Warbler's today, I thought it was some more gold finches had come to stay with us.

I was told this is a weed.  I say if it is a weed it sure is pretty, does anyone out there know what this flower/weed? is?

RaeDi....