Partridge Green

BUTTERFLIES and bees were on the snow-white drifts of MayThe cuckoo's notes rang clean and clear on that late April dayWhen she and I in Love's bright, new and glitt'ring dreamRoamed through the lanes and fields near Patridge Green.

So many seasons passed, but now those same

Wild flowers shine and green trees shade the blue-belled lane

Still we walk amid the Springs fresh, pure and emerald sheen

Which blesses field and lanes around our own dear Partridge Green.

Tony Gardener


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