SPRING

A solitary ewe stands with her lamb in the field next door
Where they came from nobody knows, never seen them before
The Sparrowhawk flies the hedgerow making fresh blood flow
There are hardly any bees to help our vegetables as they grow
At least at last that old sun is shining as I listen to the radio
Where there is precious little good news on the afternoon show
Still I’m happy clipping last years brambles, they have got to go
Along with the other winter weeds and detritus, don’t you know
From the buds on all the stems the leaves have starting peaking
At last the spring has sprung soon the buzzards will be shrieking