First Visitors Poem by Paul Reed

Like a precious curl of hair in a locket
You placed a daisy in your pocket,
As I welcomed the first visitors again
The gorse, the dandelion, buds fresh from the rain;

The world seems freed from whence it was locked away
The skies are brightened, sun no longer blocked of ray,
After being patient and having to wait for so long
All around us a crescendo of sweet birdsong;

Honoured to be pricked and poked by the woody thorns
Carried over the fields by the bullock's horns
To be swept up and thrown away on the breeze
To languish forever in this season of ease;

Blessed that this day to us should be lent
To imbibe the fresh dew-laden grasses' scent,
Under the sunny light of heaven to be dowsed
To feel spirit and soul once more aroused.