Springtime
SPEAK to me of birdsong,The unfolding and the magic of SpringOf baby new born lambs,And trees bearing much blossoming.
Far across the woodland way,
The cuckoo can be heard
Amidst the chorus of trills and songs
Of so many countryside birds.
Nature requires the work of bees,
To ensure the fruit will come
In autumn when their work has stopped
And honey from nectar is done.
With spring flowers in abundance
And rainfall along the way,
Downland walks and laughter of children
To delight many, many a day.
Barbara