The hawthorn blooms each year in May,

renewing joy with its array

of heady scent and branches bowed,

where birds delight with songs aloud.

Nature enchanting every day.

 

We tire of life: its dismal days,

and politicians’ biased ways.

But as we worry and are cowed,

The hawthorn blooms

 

From nature, we will never stray.

It brings us joy, ‘most every day

with charm of flowers, sunsets proud,

A flash of lightning; thunder cloud

Most magical for me each May

The hawthorn blooms