In The Country

The apple tree blossoms, Blow gently in the breeze, A Robin arrives on the fence, Near to me, He whistles his song, Then he's gone in a flash, A bee hovers over, The long green grass, Gracing the buttercups, With delicate touch, Here in this place, That, I love so much. In the distance the mountain, Looks grand in the sun, The fields look a picture, There are lambs having fun, Leaping about, As mother looks on, The Robin is back, And he's singing his song, Such a fine afternoon, Right here in the country, Such wonderful views, Here all around me. Jayne Louise Davies