Waving its bells in the mid morning breeze
Sheltering under the lemon and lime leaves
The new leaves to enter a promising spring
What more could a bluebell possibly bring.

Held in the moment
Held in the suspension of time
This time was not the moment
He was a victim of crime.
Held in the cell
Held against his will
This time was not his moment
He needs a magical spell.
His wish came true
Held in the dream
It was definitely the moment
Thanks to the defending team.
It was all a mistake
He was held without cause
Well I guess it has to be
No get out clause.

If you close your eyes
Inside your mind
You capture your prize
No telling what you’ll find.
There is a magical land
Just waiting to be explored
Available on demand
A guarantee you wont be bored.
Maybe inside your dreams
There are castles and moats
Strawberries and creams
Yachts and sailing boats.
Caves with orchestras to observe
Listen and relax and drift away.
Maybe a beautiful nature reserve
To watch lion cubs at play.
Maybe there are chocolate waterfalls
And the rocks are made of fudge
A tree where a kingfisher calls
Or where nobody can criticise or judge.
In your mind are flowers made of silk
And last forever and ever
The cows produce flavoured milk
Cold with ice for whoever and whenever.
You can visit these things anytime
Just close your eyes and you are there
No rivers to cross, no hills to climb
No parking ticket required , no taxi fare.
It is a free service, provided just for you
Just close your eyes, enjoy what you see
See your fields of green, your skies of blue
Your rivers of chocolate and a butterfly tree.

Bluebells and forget me nots
That summer dress with big white spots.
My mood after a really sad play
The smell of the sea on a rainy day.
My ink on a romantic card
Pebble dashed shells crumpled and hard.
Blue eggs from rather dashing hens
The unforgettable blue biro pens.
Blue films not for the feint hearted
Shiny blue butterflies for the departed.
Why do blue sweets taste the best
Obviously because they are better than the rest.
Blue oh I love blue skies
and most of all I adore blue eyes.

The huge orange flame sat down
Sat down on the edge of the horizon
Waving its raspberry arms in the sky
The orange and red flames of the sun.
Waving goodbye just for a while
Whilst it visits our friends down below
Cool nights turn blue the very second
The sun decides it is time to go.
But we are left with raspberry skies
Smeared with lemons and stars
Is there a more beautiful sky
If we were to live on Mars.
No our plant and its beautiful sky
Preserve it and keep it nice.
Keep our environment clean
Before everything turns to ice.

You are the love of my life, my everything
This is how I feel deep inside.
Without you my life would be incomplete
My whole being is so full of pride.

I have joy rushing around my soul
Laughter lives in my blood stream
There is a sense of hope deep within me
You are my strawberries and cream.

You are the perfect cup of tea
The perfect topping on my cupcake
You open floodgates letting love rush in
Without you, well my heart would ache.

I love you more than thee are grains of sand
stars in our sky. impossible to measure.
You are my cherry on top of the icing
You are the perfect golden treasure.

Each time you go I worry begging you back
Each time you leave me  my eyes weep tears
I catch each salty reminder that you've gone
They are tiny, damp but they are souvenirs.

I have inside of me love which will not die
a pump that will refuse to lose its tick - my heart
This heart could not possibly hold more love
It is jam packed, it is a complex body part.

For all of these reasons, you are my everything
Without you my body would crumble with pains
My skin would wither, my blood dry in its tracks
Without you I woud have empty veins.

It is all one big joke.
A bloke goes into a room and cries
Smoke is all doom and will soon rise.
Seems mysterious ways suffice.
Smoke is lying close to the ground
spreading itself all around.
Masks guard faces, guards over fires
hot fat to ignite and melting wires.
Fat in the pan sizzling beyond belief
one spark, one light and it will be grief
it will be grief.

During the night, a dreadful night, a mole dug deep
deep and around my garden that I love
This cheeky mole then had the nerve to stop burrowing
and then surface to check the damage from above.
Up came his velvety head and sniffed the fresh air
parting my newly laid lawn like a digger.
Now he appears to be smiling the cheeky scoundrel
He is making the problem a whole lot bigger.
"Look what yo have done" I shouted "made a right mess
The piles of earth are everywhere with your coming and froing"
"With all due respect madam" sniffed the mole "what do
you expect when I cannot exactly see where I am going!"
"I have no map, no satellite navigation device, just my claws
I am just a mole and all that I can do is dig, I've no appliance
No shiny *****, no mechanical device, what do you expect
Honestly madam it is not exactly rocket science.
He tutted and rushed back down the hole leaving me
speechless and trying my best not to cry.
The mole had made his way underground by now next door
but my hard work was down the drain - I wonder why!

Sheltering under an umbrella
with the one that I love
gives me absolutely no
reasons at all to complain.
The constant drips from above
the umbrella held quite low
but then this is love in the rain.

The cool air rushes against our clenched hands
his fingers comforting my gentle palm
The support, the care oozes from his fist
I know that I am safe away from all harm.

We watch the oil form in puddles in the street
we are huddled in a corner watching time go by
Waiting for the rain to stop, the sun to reappear
Waiting with love in our heart for the blue sky.

He reaches for my face and draws me near
nearer to his sweet lips so warm. I like the taste
the taste of his sweet kiss under the umbrella
Love in the rain, oh yes, we must make haste.

We hear thunder clap its hands, the light show begins
The orchestra in the sky threatens more of the same
The black curtains fling shut, drama is imminent
and I definitely am in love in the rain.

The goalkeeper has to be pretty tall
in order to capture and save the ball
He is bigger than the post
well in fact he is taller than most
which is no exaggeration at all.

This candle will never quite be the same ever again
I think it is rather tired playing the boring old game
Well If it were able
it would link to a cable
and hey presto it would have an electric flame!

I sit tinkering
with the bells in the wood
flicking the bell this way and that
Not doing me that much good.
Playing with my head
and that is not sheet music
it is regrets and bashed dreams
shot down completely dead.
The blues I call it the lavender blues
blue rinses, phone calls and lonely beds.
Not with fruity flowers but dried hay
I have the lavender blues that is
all that I can possibly say.

Fish in a dish
Well that seems a joke
Orange ones with no brain
Swimming the back stroke.
Round and round they go
Thinking “I’ve been here before”
Their dumb faces
Craving for more and more.
Seeing the same old things
Day after day.
Thoughts in their heads
Gone far away.
Endless fish food
Bits of this and bits of that.
Watched constantly
By next door’s cat.
Oh dear.

See the smiles on faces
teeth glaring at the sun
Flashes from babies
gummy smiles then frowns
sibling stole his teddy.
But get ready because here
comes Mr Sun, shades up
creams on and we're done.

I look back upon the patchwork
pieces of cloth saved during my life
from when I was tiny through my teens
and now that I am a wife.
Pieces of my life I call them
I remember each item well.
There is a story behind each and every one
Something for me to tell.
When I am old and have grandchildren
Stories of these pieces shall come forward
I hope they will sit and listen and
not get fed up with grandma and get bored.
For this patchwork is my life, a reminder of my days.

Home made, completely all home made
I bet you cannot tell.
The label tells it all that I have designed
and looks good enough to sell.

I started tinkering around with ideas
what can I produce from my vine?
I  can grow all sorts you know so I
will see what I can make into wine.

I have fruit in all colours and every shape
to the delicate little ruby cherry
to to most sophisticated shiny grape
and every possible home grown berry.

I have trees laden with the rich sweet
bouncy good old English plums
to the good old fashioned stone in the middle
dark red and sometimes purple damsons.

I can get my hands on nectarines, peaches
apricots galore, apricots and sweet peas
Of course Mother Nature is responsible not me
and of course the clever little bumble bees.

Well they all get mashed up
and placed in my home made vat
the aroma spreads for miles
led by next doors nosy cat.

The time you leave it matters a good deal
I like to leave the wine a good length of time
Then you know you have a decent brew
and produce quite a cheeky little wine.

Of course if you want the sparkle
it is not that much work or trouble
Want a fizz to blow the cork sky high
Make you see double with the bubble?

Add extra yeast or at least that's what I do
oh yes you are left with quite a fantastic beast
spread it on toast and float on the surface
looks disgusting and it will be a frothy yeast.

But whatever the weather whatever the tide
you are sure to have sometime to decant
Whether it will make the neighbours talk
you have produced something significant.

Pour them a drop of the old plonk
bottoms up, see you soon and good old cheers
Its fantastic this home made brewing idea
the best home made brew in years.

Picture This
Picture this: salmon coloured coral with tangerine
Bordering an atoll, and fencing it in.
Emerald clear waters blotched with aquamarine
Crystal clear like porcelain.
Fish as red as berries stewed with damson
Or as yellow as a canary made from brass
Some resemble amber blushed with crimson
And roses with sap spilt on the grass.
Picture a kingfisher as blue as the sea
Brick red wings as sharp as blades
He perches on an old olive tree
With bark as black as the ace of spades.
Picture a raspberry ripple sky
Peaches and lemons draped in-between
Fields as gold as a baked cherry pie
And a rainbow settling on the green.

It is howling and a growling
Out there among the trees
Whipping up dry, cracked leaves
Carrying them high in the breeze.
You can almost hear it whisper
Trying to provoke a storm
Persuading the clouds to disperse
in any way shape or form.
It beckons to the seas,
collecting moisture from the air
to dampen lime green fields
and then water plants everywhere.
It gathers speed shouting down
Chimney pots creating a call
The soot shakes, sprinkles droppings
cinders and ashes start to fall.
That is the response to the wind
clever communication one sees
It is the call of the wind
it is a very clever breeze.

The first apple to fall is not necessarily the best.

It is hard not to interrupt when you are engrossed.

Nobody wants to be sad
if they can help it.

Love is addictive
but then it jolly well should be.

She sat admiring her nails
Comparing each and every one
But she had chores to do, boring
She sat and wished her chored were gone.

She'd wriggle out of them if she could
and almost every day she pulled it off
Creating excuses left, right and centre
from her finger hurt to a very bad cough.

She bend over and pretend to be sick
just to get out of doing something she ought
But one of these days the little fairy
will definitely end up getting caught.

She just cannot be bothered, let someone do it
she had plenty to do like inspect her nails
But somewhere down the line she should know
that she is slightly going off the rails.

The moral of this fairy story is just simply this
hard work never hurt anyone and that is a fact
Do not let your standards and attitude slip
and what is far worse is getting caught in that act.

Be bothered, be in charge of your goals
Act like you are responsible for what you do and say
Because believe you and me that this is the best
because you feel like you are making the most of the day.

My world is green
breathing in clean
air among fields supreme.
trees that are evergreen
golden berries between
thorns that are obscene.
Soothe them with the jelly bean
sweet as honey, rich as they come.
My world is red
where poppies drape in flower beds
glorious sun beating down overhead.
Red as blood splashed on
my hospital bed
that squeezes out of gaps in my head.
Life that pumps through me till I am dead.
Enough said.
My world is blue
The rent is overdue
The landlord does not have a clue.
As Fred Flintstone once said
as he drank is golden brew
from prehistoric hops that he grew.
It is what you have come through
in life and gained.
Then he said yabbadabbadoo.
Way to go Fred.

If you believe in fairy tales and magic
If you believe in wishes then join this queue
For tonight is the night out of many when
Your dreams might possibly come true.

Look into the midnight sky full of stars
It is as if the whole sky has silver freckles
Sparkly moons and planets and beams
Pearly things and salt water speckles.

Hold your breath for a second then close the eyes
For magic is about to happen there’s no dispute.
For stars will **** across the sky a light show
And dreams will start to come true as they shoot.

Sometimes it goes down well sometimes it does not
sometimes is it just best to simply wait
Rushing headlong into something that you have got
Life is just like a bar of the best chocolate.

Life is very much like a box of tricks
Making up for what you lack
Roll the dice and hope for the six
Or will it be King Queen or the Jack

Or is it the ace you are always looking for
This is the card of which I am fond.
It is a pity then that there are only four
Still, there is always the magic wand.

Life is like a gambling game
Should we, could we, dare we
No two days are ever the same
I have been there, trust me.

Kicking the dust off my shoes
As I strolled towards my front door
Less for me to do I thought
As I had already cleaned my floor.
The front door needed painting
I had some spare paint in the shed
Nobody would miss my house
If I did the door in a nice bright red.
And the windows need replacing
The frames look shabby and worn
The paint on them seems to be peeling
They were on the house before I was born.
And while I am at it I’ll replace the mat
It has certainly seen much better days.
All these jobs don’t come for free you know
But Keeping on top definitely pays.
The letterbox keeps sticking too, I’ll see to that
The postman will be pleased with me
After all these jobs today I will be fast asleep
Oh I seem to have mislaid my key!

The ladybird laughed her spots off
When the fairy of the party like never before
Approached her – she let out a false cough
Before opening her shiny red door..
“Are you coming “ asked the fairy fiddling with a wing?
“My spots are not on properly today, so I cannot”
Replied the ladybird lying through her back teeth
Why she had said that or why but then she had forgot.
“I have short term memory loss” said the ladybird
“That is it not the spots you see it’s why I cannot come”
The fairy was confused; she’d been up all night
And was not as bright and cheerful as some.
You mean that you don’t want to give it a whirl
Paint the town red and all that jazz, her hair was a mess
She picked up a bone from the floor to make her hair curl
And thought she’d visit the spider to get a new dress.
She called on the spider, her trusty dressmaker
She sat on a load of silk that had been made by the spider
She bounced on it and took a liking to it
And sweet talked the black creepy silk provider.
“When you look at me with those eyes, it sends shivers down my spine”
The spider shook a little with the inevitable quiz
“I need a dress to party through the night and more than that
I want something that stands out makes the wings whizz”.
The spider had no choice but to do as she instructed
He had fallen in love with the blue eyes that slept all day
She had began to spin out the thread like it was as easy as pie
Besides which it is much easier to give in do it to obey.
Once again the fairy of the party like never before
Was ready and raring to dance till the sun shone again
She frog marched her clan to the bright lights
The night was going to be anything but mundane.

He turned and looked
As she walked the other way
That moment etched in his mind
It's been a nightmare of a day.
His solitary walk back to the car
Her footsteps echoing in his head
Replaying moments of the last few seconds
Going over and over what was said.
He didn't want to end it this way
But she obviously did  He shed a tear
The tear refused to fall, he didn't want to cry
Was this still love, was this brave, was this fear.
Three things spring all at once, so much to take in
Emotions are getting the better of him, that's for sure
Keeping them together, in perspective and within.
That is a hard thing to do when your life is in tatters
Lonely nights, quiet days now followed, every day
He did not want this to get this far on reflection
and now he has to put his hands up and pay.
The final goodbye is etched on his heart forever
She did not even turn to acknowledge his wave
Her confident walk as she floated away hurts
and it is an image in his head he did not want to save.
He kept repeating the phrase, the final goodbye
over and over to himself for the next few weeks
Now everything is so quiet, you can hear a pin drop
the house now moans and the roof creaks.
The final goodbye hurts still and will always hurt
There came a lonely knock at his door, he looked around
So many times tricks have been played with his mind
He wandered slowly to the door and without a sound
he opened the door thinking it was just a prank again
She stood there, his final goodbye had hurt her for a while
She looked for something in his expression, there were no tears
that was good, but there was something, it was a smile.

This is for Sally Bayan.  Her work is remarkable, outstanding and quite frankly she is to me the Poet of the Year.

She chooses wisely,
confidently, remarkably.
Her words crush
her words rise above ordinary words.
If words could stand on shoulders
her words would.
If words could scream from the page
Her words should.
They make tears flow
Relationships grow
and she lets the world know
that it cares.

Oh the joy, the seduction
The thrill of cocoa in my mind
It has to be the milky sort
I am not keen on the dark kind.
It is not velvety enough
does not quite melt in the mouth
not quite my cup of tea
although they both travel south.
But it is the taste of liquid Heaven
melting slowly on my tongue
Then a waterfall of delight
Is that so very wrong.
I love chocolate
always have and always will
If this cures all sorts of things
Marvellous - I will have it in a pill.
I think it does, it cures my thoughts
Comes complete with a big fat hug
and that is sometimes all we need
Zapping and taking care of any bug.
If you are depressed it will pick you up
wrap its chocolatey arms around you
tell you things are going to be okay
It will do whatever it needs to do.
I am in my special little place
nice and warm, my toes are curled
My little fingers opening a bar of treasure
and I am in my own little chocolate world.

Its hazy path leaves an uncertain trail
as it navigates its way through the night
Ducking and diving between whatever
If there is room for error then it's tight.
It has a mission, to go where no man has been
Almost what James T Kirk would have said
As it spins around our world, its lunar path
knowing instinctively what lies ahead.
Hiding behind clouds, the mysterious veil
Checking before it reappears so it seems
Then it steps into the limelight to claim glory
"Here I am, did you miss me and my moonbeams"
You can almost hear the man in the moon
Or is it just a lump of cheese saying these things!
The show, its stage, its audience appears every night
and we, the onlookers are just waiting in the wings.

Horse manure shovelled around a delicate rose
Now what is that all about and why?
I think possibly the plant holds its breath
and starts to moan and then cry.
That is a nice pleasant smell!
Do you think the rose thinks that?
We all know its the goodness it'll absorb
and not just like a smelly doormat.
But later when the blooms are large
Who is the one getting the credit then?
Back the horse up with a smile on its face
Lift up the tail and shout "when".
Out plops the steaming stuff on target
just right where the plant grows.
The gardener with hope in his heart
Strength in his arms and a peg on his nose!

A Happy Easter to everyone

What a funny little thing this fairy was all dressed in pink
For saying she was the Fairy of an Orchard it'd make you think.
For this little person could not stand any kind of fruit
And if it were up to her she would find a substitute.
If she could cover everything in toffee, now there is a treat
She longed for chocolate apples, how lovely and sweet.
When the little unripe pips were still in the prettiest flower
She had one word, one vision, one smell in her head - sour.
This has all been happening right as far back as a tiny youth
And she did not dare go to the Chief of Fairies and tell the truth.
Instead all of her days she would sit on her laptop and skype
From the fruit in pink flower to a full blown apple that's ripe.
She used to tell other fairies she hated the taste. the smell
Especially the pears that go squishy after they had fell.
She used to sit holding a handkerchief against her nose
and she could not stand any fruity sap sticking to her toes.
She had a prime spot, a fairy flat in an orchard is expensive
But between me and you she could find somewhere better to live.

A NEW LIGHT FOR A NEW DAY


The moon disappears 
Fading into grey
A new light shines
For a brand new day.
My day, the wind blew my way.
As Frank Sinatra sang.
My Way as a clap of thunder
Shook my world with a bang.
A clash of lights, colours explode
An orchestra in the sky.
A screaming child pushes by
Claiming one penny for his 'guy'.
The moon disappears
Fading into the grey
And I have nothing to say.

“Do not grab me”
“She has done it again,
You have got to agree
She is a pain.”
The little pink toothbrush
Moaning about the way it’s treated
In the mad morning rush
Till the cleaning session’s completed.
“Pick me up gently, that is it
Now squeeze the paste”
“Too much, too much, just a bit
Oh my life, what a waste.”
The little pink toothbrush is a fed up
He wants to be looked after lovingly
From when he comes out of his cup
Which is fair comment to some degree.
“In the mouth we go,
Always the same molar
Now woman brush to and fro
No, no, wrong, I’m trying to control you.
“Up and down, not like a yard brush
Gently, we have to do it gently
It is not some major rush
Do it differently.
Do human beings know?
Do they actually care?
Is their brain like pastry dough?
Is it even there?
If I have thought it once,
I’ve thought it a million times a day
She must be a dunce
And that is all I can say.
Rinse woman , rinse me
Under the sparkling spray
Oh no don’t dip me in your cup of tea
I’ll be yellow and smelly all day.”
Does she not know I have needs
Not know how to treat me nice
It is like she succeeds
I have to think everything twice.
“And don’t throw me
Put me gently back in my place
And I’m covered in tea
Pity it’s not on your face.”
Look soap, look everyone what she does
Treats me like a scrubbing brush
And she does it because
She is always in a rush!”

Water gushes, Mother Nature at her worst
Causing crevices to split and the banks to burst.
Sand bags pile high forming temporary barricades.
Putting pressure on them as the water cascades.
A sparkling foam pushes to the liquid surface
Rendering absolutely no breathing space.
Fish confused, dazed and bemused
Battered and slightly bruised.
Swim furiously against the strength of the swell
Questioning their one and only brain cell.
But answers don’t come that easily somehow
A split second decision should be on the cards now.
Mother Nature has pulled out the joker card
And is pitching for the mighty ace of spades.
Cruel and twisted as ever as the water cascades.

The bird flew upside down
Walking right into trouble
The bowl in the sink coughed
a bit and then burst its bubble.
The fridge door flew shut
and opened for the world to see.
Then sang in a muffled voice
"Come and buy your cheese for free"
Cheese on toast, the order of the day.
The bread said "we dont do toast"
"Are you mad, it is Saturday.
"What does that have to do with it"
shouted the knife from the fork drawer.
The cheese grated its words with venom
and the tomato sauce asked for more.
"Have you all gone mad" sang the fridge
Well maybe they had. The bird flew out again
and walked home  confused.  I am.

They looked behind the mushroom
Turned every leaf over to inspect
Gathered all the little people in a row
every bird, the mice, each little insect.
"Have you seen the Easter eggs" they were asked
They all smiled and said of course not.
Someone knew where they were
The Elf walked the ranks like a Sergeant Major
Looking for a sign on their polka faces.
No, they knew nothing,  Of course they did.
"Where is the Easter Bunny" the Elf cried.
"Bring the fellow here to me!"
The Bunny with guilt written across his face
shiffled forward passing the basket to the
ladybird as he presented himself to the Elf.
"Nothing to declare, you Majesty" said the Bunny
"Dont get funny with me" suggested the Elf
I can smell a plan a mile away Sunny Jim"
The insects giggled a bit under their breath
as the Elf frog marched towards them
"Know something do we" ..then the birds laughed.
They laughed so much the fell over.
The Magpie stood firm and confronted the Elf
"We know nothing" and burst into uncontrollable laughter.
The Elf failed to see the funny side and winced.
The Ladybirds had giggled their spots off
The Butterfly was whizzing in circles dreaming
Then it was spotted.  The basket had been spotted.
Crammed with Easter Eggs and delights.
And it had one wish.  To everyone.  It said
"Happy Easter".  It did.

They used to meet in secret
a very long time ago.
Nobody knew they were together
Dancing the tango.
The Spanish square was lit
by the midnight moon
The click of his heels
played the tune.
Her heart was on fire
it sometimes skipped a beat
He could feel it racing
He could feel the heat.
Her dress was alive
swirling and impressive
His smile, her blue eyes
were expressive.
The moon was hidden
by clouds above
The only thing they knew
was about love.
The square held it breath
But this was a long time ago
now she stares out of her window
Her movements are slow.
He went away - she knew that
She has her memories, of that dance
She had a wedding ring as proof
of her beautiful romance.

We can all shield our emotions
Put on a painted brave face
Like a clown in a sweet shop
and yes it's okay to cry.
Sometimes just a knee **** reaction
or a unexpected ending to a popular film
You can feel the sadness about to explode
and yes, it's okay to cry.
Men feel they have to be superheroes
be oblivious to emotion
but I know deep down they just want to let it out
and yes it's okay to cry.
You have missed your train, 'plane or 'bus
Missed an appointment or lost your keys to your car
It is not the end of the world I am sure
and yes it's okay to cry.
We feel better after a handful of tears
and good pocket size handkerchief will do
Let us all have a jolly good cry right now
because it is okay to cry.

Her world was golden
her world was sleek
Designed for the brave
Any second minute, day or week.
She waited and she waited
For that special moment to come
She had read in her paperbacks
What thoughts to think overcome.
Petals began to fall on her in disgust
The Magnolia had worked this one out.
Leaves encircled her feet, leaving dust
a lonely image, imprint of her shadow.
Hope began to question itself in her heart
Should she stay or should she go.
I suppose a little longer just to play the part
of an excited young lady, would not matter.
She started to whisper to herself,
words of encouragement, so as not to cry.
The Magnolia shed its tears hours ago.
She could hear footsteps, nearer they came
This could be him, the love of her future life
But she had only got herself to blame.
It was a milkman delivering orange juice
"Not much call for the white stuff nowadays" he said
"I'll soon be out of a job" he chuckled.
His words went in and straight out of her head
She half smiled and looked beyond in hope.
Looking at her watch, at last she saw sense.
The Magnolia had thrown caution to the wind
a long time ago, but sent its emotion to line her path.
If it could hug it would have done I imagine.
She went home, he appeared, late, to a wilted leaf.

A rabbit taps my foot
with his paw as white as snow
He has a smile on his little face
and soon it will be Easter.

A can smell the aroma of chocolate
Melting in the midday sun
A hunt for eggs appears to be under way
and soon it will be Easter.

The fragrance rich spice lingers
Orange peel, raisins and vanilla.
Jelly beans of all flavours are promised
and soon it will be Easter.

Little yellow fluffy things with wings
crack their way clear with a sharp beak.
Lambs spring into action on cue
and soon it will be Easter.

The baker up to his elbows in yeast
Hot Cross Buns and Simnel cake are made
Marzipan, golden sweet adorn the top
and soon it will be Easter.

There is a green hill far away
is etched upon the good shelves of my mind
and the Beatles singing "I wanna hold your hand"
and soon it will be Easter.

Chocolate eggs, good spirits, kindness and love
Learn to love not hate, give not take
Put your hands around those you adore
Keep them there, this Easter show you care.

What good is there in a chocolate teapot
It will not hold any of your Rosy Lea
Obviously not but I could eat it
Which is good enough for me!

Warmth clings to my back
Like a comforting blanket
The rays piercing my skin
and at last it is Spring.

Bring me blossom, pink as confetti
Like it is raining petals from Heaven
The petals fall on my face
and at last it is Spring.

The wings of the dove flap above
Guiding my way through the wood
Mushrooms I do not recognise cling to trees
and at last it it is Spring.

Bulbs, the daffodil and the bluebell
stir from their nice warm beds.
Outstretching their leaves to the sky
and at last it is Spring.

The doves,  bluebells and mushrooms
and the warmth of the Spring midday sun
Remind me of my youth and that is not a bad thing
I am just glad that Spring has begun.