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Poetry Pleases: Signs Of Spring

"...The woods with bluebells now are spread...'' Brian Jenkinson writes a poem about the wonders of the English springtime.

Where autumn's drifted leaves lay dead
The woods with bluebells now are spread,
And insects from their shelters creep,
Aroused to life from winter's sleep.
While up aloft the small birds sing,
Rejoicing in the new-born spring.
On high the sun, in generous mood,
Sending its beam out to intrude.
Down through the leaves the trees unfold,
Scattering the ground with coins of gold.
While many a stately chestnut stands,
White candles in green-fingered hands.

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