Walk on a Fresh Spring Day
By Veronica-Mae Soar
WALK ON A FRESH SPRING DAY
The morning dew upon the grass, the op'ning buds of May,
The nodding flowers along the woodland edge.
The feathered chorus all around, which sings to greet the day -
The litter scattered all about the hedge !
The skylark soaring high above, upon the airy breeze,
While through the leaves the sunbeams softly gleam.
The many sighing, whis'pring, rustling voices of the trees -
The supermarket trolley in the stream !
The children's happy voices at the starting of their day,
Which echo all across the village green,
As off to school, with jokes and japes, they wend their merry way -
A trail of cans and packets where they've been !
Atop a maytree, blossom white, surveying all the scene,
Red robin sings and cheers the heart of man.
Beside the path across the heath of purple, gold and green -
The slowly rusting, wrecked and burnt out van.
A fishing King dips low and then is gone with what he took,
A sapphire flash, jew'lled wings that beat the air.
Lithe willows hang their heads to brush the softly babbling brook -
A mattress and a broken, rotting chair!
Along the beach, in rocky pools, small secret creatures hide.
The seabirds wheel, the air is sweet as wine.
Where seaweed dark the edges mark of ever rushing tide -
Lie plastic bottles, cups and fishing line!
Come sit with me and rest awhile, and contemplate the view,
And tell me if you think that life is sweet:
The sun, the breeze, the birds, the flowers, the sky of wond'rous blue -
The growing piles of rubbish at our feet !
@ anti-copyright: Veronica-Mae Soar Jan 2000
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