Spring
The cuckoo arrives in the middle of night Bringing his message of spring, And the tossing blue sea brings fresh delight As each wave rolls in.
The birds are twittering in the breeze On the top most boughs they're seen. While the cool caress of morning breeze Refreshes the hill tops green.
The Bees, who have all winter slept In the hives, are humming aloud. And into the sky has quietly crept Silver linings for every cloud.
(Written at age 13 and winning a school prize)
Spring Dawn
I woke at 4 this morning Drinking tea and yawning. Soon the birds began to sing And I saw a spring day dawning.
Lovely days, all fresh and bright Best time of the year. Smell of new mown grass All sorts of things To bring me cheer.
Pale sky, turning into blue Soon the sun will come Showing me the things to do Cleaning house, not too much fun But satisfying all the same. Spring means so much A time of gain.
26-4-90
Almond Trees (Feb. 20th)
Flower buds of the Almond across the road Are just peeping through, even though it's just snowed. Next week pink flowers will appear Telling us, soon, spring will be here. So pretty they'll be, They don't last very long Replaced by bronze leaves, Less fragile, more strong. But these lovely pink flowers We do so enjoy. All the way down the road They are our pride and joy.
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Autumn (Oct. 92)
Pale blue Autumn skies. Gold leaves lie thick upon the lawn. Washing hangs limp and never dries. Late and reluctant comes the Dawn.
Nothing lovely can I see In the dying of the year. Old and sombre, just like me. Rain falls often just like tears.
Yet there are some sunny days, Both in spirit, and in weather. Sam and Annie come today, Lynne as well so for a while Happy we will be together.
End of Winter
Silver white plane again In that pale blue sky, End of winter almost here Bright sunny days With gentle breezes Lovely days so fresh and clear.
The crows are back In the stark bare tree. Back to their nest Where they come each year. From my window I watch As they busily build. Where do they go When winter is here?
Pussy Willow, buds everywhere, The soil is rampant, Full of growth. Sad winter over A time of hope. Peter is home after nine long weeks Maybe life will be kind. After such a long time Of me being strong, Will luck come along?
19-3-93
My Trees (19-11-94)
Dawn breaking, early in a Winter sky. Those trees again, I see from my bed Bare, beautiful branches, etched against cold grey No blackbirds nesting now, No lush green leaves. Appealing still, I love those trees.
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Lament for Summer 1993
Leaves are turning, Bonfires burning, The summer that "was not" has gone. Chilly mornings, Misty rain. "Time goes so fast" says Mrs. Stamp "Spring will soon be here again."
(Mrs. Stamp in Mum's acupuncturist)
Spring Hope Early February 1994
Cold winter's not over, by any means There's still frost on the grass And cold are the winds. But at six in the morning I heard the first sound Of a faint dawn chorus Spring must be around. By seven it's light And stays so till five, That's on a bright day When our spirits revive. I'll put up with the cold, But I do hate the dark So on this bright morning I find hope in my heart.
Green leaves are appearing On the Elder outside, Snow Drops are in bloom. Spring's come for a ride, To tell us that soon, Even though it might snow, She's just round the corner Urging winter to go.
The Fall (Oct. 94)
Crisp and gold lie the leaves On the untidy lawn. Gone are the days when we sat in their shade, Enjoying sweet summer, Now their beauty is gone.
Now a nuisance they will be Till they are cleared up, and gone To the damp old bonfire heap Where, alas, they now belong.
But we will remember them, And hot summer days When we sat in the garden Enjoying their shade.
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