past a robin and transparent stream
and horses grazing in the field.
As I ascend the steep verdant hill
I regret donning a coat for it is warm
yet Easter Saturday tempts with the prize
of gorgeous bluebells in front of my eyes.
But I have arrived before bluebells bloom,
shrug off this brief disappointment
listening to birdsong amid the trees
grass still sparkling with dew
as I slowly make my way back home
feeling freedom in the soft springtime air,
a million miles from tension and despair