A Year In England Poem by Stephen Pennell

In January England is a barren canvas cold to the touch
Febuary brings blankets of snow and ice and skeleton trees on the horizons
March begins the race to paint this fertile land of fable, green
April brings nature's palette alight with daffodils and bluebells
May turns your borders into rainbows in waiting, planned in your minds eye, just waiting for mother natures starting gun.
June brings that plan to life fox gloves trumpeting summers arrival
July brings the queen of the garden into play the English rose, you noble flower
August blazes with red hot pokers and full larders
September turns the tree leaves into rust and sees the the first petals fade away
October sees the trees start to shed leaves like tears
November remembers the fallen with poppy's red
December brings holly and poinsettias into the house.
And lets do it all again next year x