Transitional Poem
35
Experiments of green, I still was wiseAnd kissed the blossoming rod.
Now summer brings what April took,Riding with fanfares from the south,And I should be no Solomon to lookMy Sheba in the mouth.
Charabancs shout along the laneAnd summer gales bay in the woodNo less superbly because I can't explainWhat I have understood.
Let logic analyse the hive,Wisdom's content to have the honey:So I'll go bite the crust of things and thriveWhile hedgerows still are sunny.
