I wrote this a couple of years ago, after a walk in the local woods.
they fill my heart with pure delight.
Beneath the trees, they look like snow,
"Fair Maids of February," they're called, you know.
Next come the daffodils robed in yellow,
each one a fine unpstanding fellow.
A golden miracle every Spring;
a sweep of daffs makes my heart sing.
A walk in the woods, look what we've found -
a carpet of primroses on the ground.
All Summer and Winter they've been asleep,
yet never fail to make Spring sweet.
Look over here! What a magical find,
violets of every single kind.
Purple and white, and pale pink too,
I didn't know that these things still grew!
Deep in my heart I'm contented and glad,
to lose these special flowers would be sad.
The next generation may be bereft,
we must protect what we've got left.
Poetry by normalil
Read 603 times
Written on 2007-03-15 at 00:02
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Spring in our Village.
At last they've come, the snowdrops white,they fill my heart with pure delight.
Beneath the trees, they look like snow,
"Fair Maids of February," they're called, you know.
Next come the daffodils robed in yellow,
each one a fine unpstanding fellow.
A golden miracle every Spring;
a sweep of daffs makes my heart sing.
A walk in the woods, look what we've found -
a carpet of primroses on the ground.
All Summer and Winter they've been asleep,
yet never fail to make Spring sweet.
Look over here! What a magical find,
violets of every single kind.
Purple and white, and pale pink too,
I didn't know that these things still grew!
Deep in my heart I'm contented and glad,
to lose these special flowers would be sad.
The next generation may be bereft,
we must protect what we've got left.
Poetry by normalil
Read 603 times
Written on 2007-03-15 at 00:02
Save as a bookmark (requires login) Write a comment (requires login) Send as email (requires login) Print text
