Walkies in May

 

It rained a bit this morning, it was overcast and grey

Now it’s cold and cloudy, it’s the middle week of May

The breeze was slightly chilly when we locked the door

I’m glad I put my coat on, it was winter I dressed for

 

I should have worn my wellies though, puddles still remain

On Saturday we had a storm, crikey did it rain

The grasses long and wavy make my trainers wet

I’m glad I haven’t packed away my winter woollies yet

 

We’ve not seen the sun for months now, it’s England don’t you know

That’s why we look so pasty and our spirits get so low

Last week I wore a t-shirt though, we had a heatwave then

Today I’d freeze to death out here, it’s proper cold again

 

Muddy puddles hang around, winter wasn’t long ago

But it’s turning greener every day as plants begin to grow

We’re walking out with Charly, it’s my favourite time of year

If I could, I’d stop the clock, I’d stay right now right here

 

The days are getting longer but it’s not too hot and sweaty

Blossom on the hawthorn floats around just like confetti

The bluebells have been splendid but their time is drawing near

They look a tad dejected, they’ll be back again next year

 

Actually it’s warming up, clouds evaporating

Warm hazes of aroma, sweet and all pervading

We walk into an open field, out from the shaded wood

Just as the sun comes out, my word, that does feel good

 

Dandelions are everywhere, buttercups and daisies

Dancing swaying in the breeze, a million smiling faces

We feel the warmth, soak up the light, spring is such delight

Charly frolicks in the crops, they’ve grown to quite a height

 

We turn and head for home now, it’s hard work up the hill

Crikey it’s a lovely day, it’s getting warmer still

My jeans are feeling clammy and I begin to sweat

Moisture trickles down my back, a mile to go still yet

 

Oak trees graced with newborn leaves, iridescent fresh and green

Gleam against the sky so blue, so happy to be seen

A melodious cacophony, birds tweeting with elation

They’ve all got so much to say, a springtime celebration

 

A robin flits ahead of us, watches us walk by

The blackbird sings his heart out, I whistle in reply

The verges are resplendent, stingers standing proud

Cow parsley under-rated, sticky weed in a crowd

 

Forget me nots and thistles, pretty columbine

Long days of summer lie ahead, this is my favourite time

It’s that in-betweeny weather, four seasons in one day

It’s England and it’s lovely in the middle week of May