Seasons are changing
A bed of crocus in a bright golden ring.
Sending a warm message to everyone;
Winter is receding and spring has begun.
Mother Nature’s timing is a wonderful thing,
At the ending of winter and in the spring.
Now and again she gets out of tune,
Like daffodils in February and snow in June.
Seasons are changing, said the old thrush,
They’re arriving earlier, in a bit of a rush.
The wise old owl, sitting in the barn,
Thinks being earlier is doing no harm.
The birds’ dawn chorus, a symphony of life,
Starts in all woodlands at the very first light.
They sing of their joy at the sight of the day,
Of the sun, its warmth and life-giving rays.
Winters are wetter, but no freezing snow;
The winds are cooler but full of blow.
The sun is warmer and higher in the sky,
Spring does seems early. I don’t know why?
Albert Armstrong,
Percy Street,