The Snowdrop

Ere the snowdrop peep’d out, Like a timid child, I see it stealing out, The pearly blossom bright. It comes in the warmth of the spring, With promise of summer in its heart, A creature of soft white wings, That scorns the sullen night.

The Wildflower

In every clime, where the breezes blow, Garden blooms bending beneath the snow, There springs up wildflower after wildflower, Each marking the path of the sun’s warm hour. The daisy white, the violet blue, In fields of green their colors grew.

The Cuckoo

Oh, the cuckoo’s song! how sweetly it sounds, As it flutters over the fields and the grounds, Through the brightening tide of the golden lanes, Echoing forth in the quivering veins, Of all created life that gathers and sways, In the delight of the opening days.

The Woodlands

Through yonder woodlands where the fbwing deer, With their flitting steps pass softly and clear, In twilight’s cloak of green they softly tread, Where the gentle winds through the branches spread. The earth whispers softly in murmurs so low, The dance of the trees and the sweet flowers’ glow.

Summer

The honey’d comb upon the flower, The summer sun in every hour, Crickets chirruping afar, In the sun-warmed fields where the lambs do spar, The swallows flit in the blue above, While the daisies bloom in the fields we love.

The Skylark

With song rippling down, like the sun’s own ray, The skylark rises in the blue of the day, Through the soft folds of the heavenly blue, In the warmth of the sun, drifting gently through. Sing, oh! sing, little lark, As the sun begins to spark.

A Summer’s Day

Oh, how sweet the scent of the blooming rose, As the sun likens life to a soft repose; With the mists floating over the slumbering hills, And the brooks singing low by their gentle rills. As the flowers unveil their colors so bright, In the tender embrace of the golden light.

The Moonlit Night

A tender moon shines upon the earth, In the veil of the night, revealing her worth, While stars in the breadth of the heavens do twine, In a tapestry bright of color divine. As dreams drift by on the fanning breeze, The soft gentle whisper brings hope of peace.

The Briar Rose

A briar blooms with a fragrant sigh, In the tranquil shade where the wild things lie, A gem in the cradle of the morning dew, Glory reflected in the sun’s golden hue. It nods with grace in the soft summer air, Painting the landscape, forever so rare.

The Daffodil

In the meadows of spring blooms the daffodil, A dance of bright faces upon the green hill, With petals of gold kissed by soft rains, Waving proudly amid the sweet grain. They herald the sun with their light so fine, A child of the earth, through the millennial vine.

The Forest

In the heart of the woods where shadows fall, Amid the brisk branches, I heed the call, Of the rustling leaves in the wind’s soft breath, As nature whispers, embracing life and death. Each tree a witness of ages past, In this forest, I find my peace at last.

The Meadow

Where the meadow stretched wide, with flowers aglow, And a carpet of grass that invited the flow, The buttercups, daisies, a painter’s delight, In colors that glistened, silver and white. The sun smiles upon this gentle domain, Where the earth sings its secrets in springtime rain.

The Autumn

With a sigh of the waning light, comes the fall, As leaves float gently, a seasonal call, In the whispering woods where the stillness stays, A tapestry woven in autumnal grays. Every branch a story, every leaf a song, Telling of time, forever lasting and strong.

The Morning

In the early dawn when the light unfolds, The fragrant dew’s whisper a story untold, As the sun’s gentle warmth kisses the ground, Life awakens with sweetness, the world spinning round. With each break of day, hope blooms like a flower, In the embrace of the dawn, life stirs with power.

• John Clare