Mother-Nature Poem by Mark Heathcote

Mother-nature what is the essence of spring
-does father berate you for turning back his sheets?
Does he wait in the wings with chilly deceits
Mother-nature you're waking up everything.

The dawn is rousing with birdsong and crickets
hens are cluck, cluck, clucking once again
the farm dog is barking-mad in the thickets
And coppiced-boughs emerald in the woodland-fen.

Mother-nature what is all this foliage about
my ankle they're reddened by stinging nettles
and the mountain, rivers are leaping with brown trout
Mother-nature, there are cherry, blossom petals:

Everywhere I walk; you're a good ten, steps ahead
the ground's covered in slugs and snails it looks
like they're carrying picnic baskets on their head
Mother-nature—father is reading hymn books.

He wants to blanket the world in ice and snow,
put a bookmark in this passage, and embrace you.
But you're as skittish as a new-born lamb, so-
I ask Sis Summer, ‘what's your overview.'