john (called jack) wren

It's a place where silence
has the loudest voice
from those who lie there
though not by choice
...

Sweetest of Isles I look at thee
nestled in yonder turbulent sea
shining like diamonds every day
guarding the entrance of the bay
...

Ribbon and tinsel, holly and berry
it's the festive season, time to make merry
there's cards and presents, snow on the ground
carols in church make an angelic sound.
...

Creeping merrily twix affable leaf
in search of her morning aperitif
this vision with the brightest of eye
smiles as she teases the Sun in the sky.
...

Wee sleek thrower of the soil
under the ground you're made to toil
on heaps of earth we see your stamp
on meadow and wood where're you camp
...

By the wayside.

She sets out her stall by the wayside
displaying her goods with glowing pride
...

They're always there, even
when its bleak and bare,
pecking away at this and that
foraging in their little grey hat.
...

Beside the sea you fill your roll
where the laughter of children
ignites your soul, and
your clustered heads warm and cosy
...

Most brazen of plants, from the bowels of time
resolved to leave your bounty of grime
how complacent men dread the birth
of this relentless scourge of the earth
...

When dark clouds come you close your eyes
and hide away from butterflies
who like you do not like rain, and sometimes
think life is a pain
...

Arrayed in a dress of shamrock green
she brightens up the woodland scene
and makes you dream of the Emerald Isle
where mountains stretch mile after mile
...

With her in your garden your heart will melt
as she comes with pride from the land of the Celt
and makes you dream of mountains and song
with waterfalls singing as you amble along
...

As you gaze upon the hidden treasures
of Creation
wisdom will enter your heart
and knowledge your soul
...

Flower of pure maidens, unspoiled and sound
upright and imposing wherever you are found.
on many wastelands looked the reiver to
seek your help for sickness and fever
...

This flower of butter as unwanted as a cold
gathers her troops for a mission so bold
she deploys them to her left and right
secure in mind and ready for the fight
...

How fair is this sweet Flower of the Moon
with custard eyes that make you swoon
and eye lids of white with an enticing flutter
making the senses stagger and stutter
...

The ground was silent
as if in sleep
and all around
were in God's keep
...

I' enslaved by her beauty
it ravishes my eye
and my heart pants in tandem
with heaving sighs
...

When she flashes a smile
I'm held in a trance
and can't take my eyes
off this fair countenance
...

This sweet bunch of sweetness
is like Grannie used to be
all enjoyment, full of charm
cream buns and afternoon tea.
...