Of briar and hawthorn
       of lily of the valley
and swathes of bluebell
       early morning walks
through field and woodland
       back in the day
when I counted
       the days

March winds
       and April showers
and now May is upon us
       with every promise
that was meant
       to be kept

The high sun tans my face
       I wake early eager to breathe
the blossom-laden air
      eager to take to the hills
or down to the stream
       where kingfishers appear
when least
       expected

Days when the full moon
       illuminates our nights
as birds sleep their peace
       and love is our thing
and we never tire nor feel
       a shred of discontent
as the hours
       pass us by

John Lyons