MAY GARDEN

By John Drinkwater

A shower of green gems on my apple-tree

This first morning of May

Has fallen out of the night, to be

Herald of holiday —

Bright gems of green that, fallen there,

Seem fixed and glowing on the air.

Until a flutter of blackbird wings

Shakes and makes the boughs alive,

And the gems are now no frozen things,

But apple-green buds to thrive

On sap of my May garden, how well

The green September globes will tell.

Also my pear-tree has its buds,

But they are silver yellow,

Like autumn meadows when the floods

Are silver under willow,

And here shall long and shapely pears

Be gathered while the autumn wears.

And there are sixty daffodils

Beneath my wall....

And jealousy it is that kills

This world when all

The spring’ s behaviour here is spent

To make the world magnificent.