And the face of the sun has not been seen out today
July it is ending wintery one can say
This stirs up old memories of Winter far away
In the greyness of January with the rain drizzling down
On the deserted fields by the old country town
The dark hungry rooks cawing on the tall leafless trees
And the coldness of Winter in the evening breeze
Old memories of Winter a lifetime does stay
Cattle in farmyard sheds bellowing for silage or hay
The finches and thrushes without songs to sing
Some four to five weeks from the calendar Spring
July in the far south is ending with rain
And the tiny frogs are singing in every water filled drain
But the magpies who sing every day of the year
Their distinctive warbling ever pleasant to hear.
No comments:
Post a Comment