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
...

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.
...

Shy and timid like a sensitive child
under mouldering leaves you lie
dreaming with timorous mice of
warmer climes and bright blue sky.
...

Bees start laughing
when the Summer brings
many happy days for
those busy little wings.
...

Take me where sweet silence sits
beside a trickling brook
to watch a shepherd dozing
while resting on his crook.
...

He looks so refined and innocent
perched on yonder branch
a member of the affluent
upper class in his stance.
...

Friend of the harrowed ground
and master of twisting flight
hunter of those who are found
hiding under soil out of sight.
...