Breakfast At Bradenham Woods

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18
It was dark and cold It was April cold The very beginning of day I was just about twelve years old Long ago and far away But it's one of the things I remember still I always have and I always will The sun coming up like a dazzling cup Just over Saunderton Hill Then there was... Breakfast at Bradenham Woods In the airs of the morning Mornings at seven To borrow what Browning would say Heaven could never lay on Such a clamour of birdsong The larch, the primrose Sunlight slanting and gay Breakfast at Bradenham Woods And without any warning A magic was made that has stayed For the whole of my life I could never go back Without breaking the spell Well then, I'll never try For breakfast at Bradenham Woods I must keep til I die