Though praised by all when you were born
The birds were speechless in their song…
White-lilac scents the month of May
Now warmer days are on their way.
How lovely is the month of June
With all the roses full in bloom.
And, then, the summer comes to pass
The trees in autumn colours cast.
And when the light begins to dim
The Winter will its travails bring.
Though the seasons are a transient thing
The birds would of Life’s beauties sing.
The sand of Time -the hour-glass flows
The fading petals of the rose…
While listening for the whistle’s sound
A thousand hearts with fear would pound.
Those memories of more temperate times
Of carefree walks of Lakeland climbs.
From a swallow to a nightingale you changed in form
Your breast thrust hard against a thorn.
Though men would curse the coming dawn
The nightingale sang his sweetest song…