Summer

The water elder is in flower
The woods are all in green
The dark oak forms a shady bower
& lovely is the scene

The wild flower of the summer fields
Clothes every swelling hill
& angels voices seem to shield
In murmurs of the rill

That whimpers o'er its winding source
As clear as morning showers
Where grass & weeds grow rank & coarse
& clouds of watered flowers
The fallen oak stripped of its bark
In the wood valley lies
Where dropping down the woodland lark
Sings summer melodies

#poetry #environment 

#honesty

Image by my friend Carry Akroyd

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