Monday, 30 April 2018

in the garden

in the jostle of white Islands
across a look at ‘em sky,
the neon birdsong flickers,
and dancing on my eyelids, 
it is flowing like the breeze.

the pear blossom is counting bees,
the plum is having a snooze,
soon the apple buds will follow,
in a mo, in a mo;
hover-flies are bickering 
to and fro, to and fro;
the sunshine is telling me,
take a snooze, do take a snooze.

upon my pinking skin,
greenflies fall with their dew,
then climb back up the trees;
for when the silver birch is shining,
and pale with baby tongues,
each one is singing a lullaby,
to wrap me down in ease.

now the fern is blowing party horns,
higher, and higher;
wake up, wake up,
look! spring is taking wing;
and as orchestra plays
i join the choir so to sing,
   and sing,
        and sing.

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