I feast mine eyes on nature’s things,
And in the air a thousand wings
Beat out a thousand tunes.
The nooks around this noble place
Are filled with magic and with grace,
And nature’s bold fortunes.

The shafts of night stretch into light
And what was black is now pure white
And wakes a summer dream.
And out there where the winter shed
Its shabby coat of russet-red,
There tumbles one sunbeam.

The mist will bide its time today
And hide amidst the clouds that play
Above the racing brook.
All weather-beaten on the hill
The oak grove stands so bold and still
And hikers pause to look.

The silent grass and butterflies
Look upwards to the distant skies
With vision ever sure;
Pink roses glow, row after row.
And singing fills the air just now
With water running pure.

And when the morning sun breaks through
The whole of nature shines anew
At heaven’s gentle pull.
And when the great trees shake before
The gushing sap and floral floor,
‘Tis summer beautiful.

This poem is reproduced with the kind permission of the author (and Hepworth resident), Bernard Howlett, Breckland Poet, from his book “Pages of Time”, ISBN 978-0-9559311-3-0