The Seasons


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.


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.


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?


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.


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.