Pearls by the morning

Though grass is green though flowers are gay
& everywhere they be
What are the leaves on branches hung 
Unto the withered tree
Lifes happiest gifts & what are they
Pearls by the morning strung
Which ere the noon are swept away 
Short as a cuckoos song
A nightingales the summer is
Can pleasure make us proud 
To think when swallows fly away 
They leave her in her shroud

Follow for daily #JohnClare posts

#poetry  #environment #truth #honesty

Image from my friend #JohnAbbott