Only England

Only an English Summer,
What it means to me,
Is the feel of sand beneath my toes,
And the music of the Sea.

But what is a Summer,
Trapped in the city?
A Summer of the London smoke fumes,
And the streets so gritty.

Only an English Autumn,
The conker collecting ,
The time to run through red leaves,
And the royal golden trees.

Yet what is an Autumn,
Stuck in town streets?
An Autumn with out any bronze trees,
With out leaves to stomp your feet.

Only an English Spring,
Watching from the farm,
The learning lambs in the lush long grass,
And calves in the barn.

What is a Spring time,
When you’re in London?
There are no just born lambs to watch,
Just the traffic pushing on.

Only the English Winter,
All of England as one.
The Christmas Trees bush outwards and up,
Children are out to play in the snow and sun.
AND THAT IS ONLY ENGLAND.