N’er cast a clout til May is out

I heard the shabby old man shout

Was it his business any way

That I was drenched from heavy rain

My skirt was skimpy I must say

That wouldn’t keep the ticks away

And here I was wet through and cold

And here he was quite dry and old

I told you so, he seemed to say

It’s not summer til the buds of May

But though wet I had  heart filled with hope

For under the tree the fairies spoke

They shared their joy of unseen wonder

Of summers life and nature under

Of seeds and weeds and bees 

Of ants and larva, roots from trees

For natures hidden joys and treasure

Will move full circle for endless ever

And radiate hope love and smiles