As I cast off my winter garments
Do you hear the choir of spring?
Blue-tit, coal-tit, robin and wren
Embellish the skies as stained glass rings.
Where sycamore, ash and ivy join
Do you see through the eyes of trees?
Framed by leaves little red caps rejoice
To the fiddles of fern on the breeze.
In my labyrinth of ivy and fay light
Will you find your gossamer wings,
Carry a candle back through time
And waken the towns to rites of spring?