The return of spring

The return of spring

As the cold winter disappears,

And blossom blooms upon the trees,

I, in the autumn of my years,

Can’t help but smile and feel at ease,

Inhaling the scent of flowers,

Sweetened by cool April showers,

Colouring meadows nature grown,

Adjoining fields by farmers sewn,

I listen to lusty songbirds

Trill a natural symphony;

An instinctive epiphany,

Far beyond the reach of these words,

Chirruped and loudly retweeted,

From nests tirelessly completed. 

In a woodland, not far away,

Amidst spring’s early morning spell,

I spend the best part of the day,

There, where elusive creatures dwell.

On rare occasion, they appear:

Dormice, rabbits, foxes, roe deer,

Woodcocks, pheasants, geese, guinea fowl,

And even now and then, an owl.

With warm and pleasant thoughts benign,

Returning along busy streets,

I can hear a woodpecker’s beats,

Against a cedar or a pine,

And in my mind, it drowns the sound

Of morning traffic, rush-hour bound.

In early May, I love to be

Where hyacinthoides (or blue bells)

Beneath a leafy canopy,

Adorn the woodland’s glades and dells.

In youth, I never really knew

The beauty of a violet blue;

With roving eyes on other things,

Distracted, I missed many springs.

Older now (and maybe more wise),

I much appreciate their hue;

Too soon for me, their time is through,

And when they cease to greet my eyes,

As in a romance, bound to end,

I miss them like an absent friend.

As the trees’ blossom dissipates 

In favour of a future fruit,

And pollinated, abdicates;

As the bluebells return to root,

New flowers bloom and hatchlings fledge,

Machinery cuts back the hedge,

Spring lambs are reared, soon to be sold,

Hay is gathered, baled and rolled,

And I, with dog companion stroll,

Cheered by a cloudless sky of blue;

Indeed, I love the summer too,

In many ways it warms my soul,

And yet, for all it’s bound to bring,

I long for the return of spring.