Classic Poem

When love is bright and whole again,
I'll sing like the bee's weather,
I'll set my colours up again
Like the cock-pheasant's feather,
I'll find a note to make me one
With lyric birds that sing the sun.

I'll fill my songs with palmer's buds
And sprigs of thorn for Whitsunday,
And they shall dance as willow rods,
And shine with garlands of the may,
I'll be a theme that takes the spring
From bushes where the blackbirds sing.

I'll walk among my sheep again
And turn my steps to numbers,
When love is bright and whole again
And fear has gone to slumbers,
With wings again and flowers and stars
To be my coloured calendars.