Last year I was in England in the spring.
Delicate pink blossom covered everything.
Gold, purple, blue and snow white flowers were seen.
In every garden, roadside, different shades of green.
I had not been in England for some years,
My memories of that land cost me tears,
For when in vain I fly to a bedside,
Too late to hear fond voices,
Some have died.
Every few years for loving, precious days,
I visit my old country,
Tread past ways.
Remaining friends are welcoming,
But here’s the thing:
This land is full of meaning and my life.
Despite long snowy winters, toil and strife,
Twas here played out the story of my dreams,
Fulfilling all my hopes and fruitful schemes.
This year I am in Canada in spring.
Pink blossom covers everything.
Gold, purple, blue and snow white flowers are seen.
In every garden, roadside, different shades of green.
Jenny Panda