MEADOW BLOOM
My one wee bud that grows in the meadow,
Far apart from the flaunting garden blooms,
Afar, where the brook and birds are singing,
And the soft noon haze o'er the distance looms.
My one wee bud, but to grow so bravely
Where the rushes rise from the moorland green,
Where birds skim close o'er the grassy billows