And Is There Still Honey For Tea?

A Cottage in the Cotswolds

(A modernized  version of The Old Vicarage Grantchester by Rupert Brooke, 1912 )

Close your eyes and think of spring :
Swallows swooping on the wing,
Cherry blossom pink and white,
Nesting birds a cheerful sight. 
Mountain mint in hedge’s shade, 
Bluebells carpet woodland glade,
Dappled sunlight warms and cheers, 
Fresh green leaves with dew-drop tears.

Picture  balmy summer day :
Buzz of bees and smell of hay,
Apples ripening on the trees, 
Butterflies flutter on the breeze.
Poppies nodding in the corn, 
Bright red jewels to greet the morn,
Tiny field mice scamper here …
Kestrel gives them cause for fear

Now let autumn come to mind 
And all around you you will find
Berries, fruit on bush and tree, 
Feasts for creatures wild and free.
Squirrel seeks the nuts she’ll need
When winter comes with icy speed.
Snuffling ground hog cannot stay,  
He seeks a winter hideaway

Ope’ your eyes and change the scene : 
No sign of things which once had been.
There is a pallor in the air, 
The fruit trees everywhere are bare.
No bluebird’s song, no blackbird's trill, 
The woods and fields are sad and still.
The flowers are gone, the grass is bare,
There’s desolation everywhere.

In vain small hungry creatures search 
For food, where starving sparrows perch 
No nuts or berries as before;
Gone is Nature’s lavish store.
Our tables too hold Spartan fare
Without the bees’ industrious care;
We did not save the little bee…
Can there be honey still for tea ?

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