George’s ode to spring
MY grandson George Stubbington, aged eight, composed the following poem for his English homework and I would like to share it with your readers.
Spring!
The spring goes boing, It’s here, hurray!
The winter’s gone and the sun has shone, Everything is waking up.
The bulbs have burst, The flowers are stretching, The trees are swaying in the gentle breeze.
The bluebells are ringing and the birds are singing like a choir of angels from heaven.
The lambs are ballet dancers leaping over the daisies.
Baby chicks are hatching, All is changing.
Everything is waking up.
It’s here, Hurray!
IT’S SPRING!
The teacher said: “Well done George, thank you for reminding us of the joy around us.”
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