AND IS THERE HONEY STILL FOR TEA ?
(from “The Old Vicarage Grantchester by Rupert Brooke 1912 )
Close your eyes and think of spring
Swallows swooping on the wing.
Cherry blossom pink and white,
Nesting birds a cheerful sight
Ladies smock in hedges shade
Bluebells carpet woodland glade
Dappled sunlight warms and cheers
Fresh green leaves with dew-drop tears
Picture a balmy summer day,
Buzz of bees and smell of hay
Apples ripening on the trees,
Butterflies dancing on the breeze.
Poppies nodding in the corn,
Bright red jewels to greet the morn.
Tiny field mice scamper here
Kestrel gives them cause for fear
Now let autumn come to mind
And all around you you will find
Berries and fruit on bush and tree,
Feasts for creatures wild and free.
Squirrel seeks the nuts hell need
When winter comes with icy speed.
Snuffling hedgehog cannot stay
He seeks a winter hideaway
Open your eyes and changed the scene,
No sign of things which once had been.
There is a pallor in the air,
The fruit trees everywhere are bare.
No skylark's song, no blackbird's trill,
The woods and fields are sad and still.
The flowers are gone, the grass is bare,
Theres desolation everywhere.
In vain small hungry creatures search
For food, where starving sparrows perch
No nuts or berries as before
Vanished is Natures bounteous store.
Our tables too hold Spartan fare
Without the bees industrious care
We did not save the little bee
Can there be honey still for tea ?