The yellowhammers nest

When shall I see the white-thorn leaves agen
& yellowhammers gathering the dry bents
By the dyke side on stilly moor or fen
Feathered with love & natures good intents
Rude is the tent this architect invents
Rural the place with cart ruts by dyke side
Dead grass horse hair & downy-headed bents
Tied to dead thistles--she doth well provide

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Winding footpath

Wereover many a stile neeth willows grey
The winding footpath leaves the public way
Free from the dusty din & ceasless chime
Of bustling waggons in the summer time
Crossing a brook—were braving storms in vain

Two willows fell & still for brigs remain
Corn field & clover closes leading down
In peacful windings to the neighbouring town

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Yellow woods

The storm from which the shepherd turns 
To pull his beaver down 
While he upon the heath sojourns 
Which autumn bleaches brown 
Is music aye & more indeed 
To those of musing mind 
Who through the yellow woods proceed 
& listen to the wind

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Image by my friend #CarryAkroyd

Bonny March

The bonny March morning is beaming

   In mingled crimson & grey

White clouds are streaking and creaming

   The sky till the noon of the day

The fir deal looks darker and greener

   And grass hills below look the same

The air all about is serener

   The birds less familliar and tame

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Image by my friend #RachelBurch

Kine

Of poesy full many charms are thine

Green vales & tinkling brooks & pastures thronged with kine

& thy old woods as yet can claim & call

Thy native oak thy own that proudly towers

Boast of thy nation & the dread of all

& though the slighting sun & chilly showers

.

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Image by my friend #JohnAbbott

Secluded haunts

Trees sheltering round it hide returning rooks
& twittering swallows seek its chimney nooks
In peace the sparrow chirps its joyous calls
& takes the feather to the crevisd walls
Nor fails the harmless robin & the wren
To seek such sweet secluded haunts agen
Beneath the eaves the martins still repair
& yearly build their mortard dwelling there

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Spring

Welcome gentle breathing spring
Now the birds begin to sing
Now the Swelling shade is seen
Putting forth its tender green
While the Suns extended way
Sweetly shows the lengthend day
O delightful Season hail
May my footsteps never fail
When Ive time to trample where
All thy beauties reappear

.

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