Spring

Early spring shall always be one of my favourite times of year. Light, newness and possibility abound.

Enjoy the spring of English green,

Although the branches are still bare.

The first bright shoots so lean,

Are breaking through the soil there.

From this bright and crisp aired day,

We look forward to the summer gold,

Though we know April’s showers will stray

And we can still see frost’s dusting in the cold.

No countryman can live through spring,

With all its fresh and bright endeavours,

Without feeling that his hopes are rising

Even through each change of vernal weathers.

If only this joyful spring of English lanes

Were matched by those holding England’s reins.