For the hills they undulate and roll,
Set beneath a crimson sky.
Image liken, to castle ramparts past,
Now slowly worn away with time.
For only seconds before the dawn,
And the mighty sun to rise.
Once more its rays to warm the earth,
And ascend into the sky.
For little bird how sweet you sing,
As you usher now the new morn in.
From branch to branch flit to and fro,
Along the leafy wild hedgerow.
For amongst the green, a dusting fare,
Of pastel shades of color there.
For gentle are the flowers that spring,
Who’s petals blossom like fairy wings.
© N Windle.