The first buds of spring were peeking,
The trees were still stark and unclothed.
There was something she was not telling,
A secret she hadn’t yet shared.
She hid her secret
She hid it well
She did not show.
He could not tell.
The first spring flowers were now blooming,
The trees overhead lightly clothed.
Something about her was changing;
A change that could not be ignored.
She’d started to show
And he could tell.
He knew what it was
Knew all too well.
Now nature in all of it’s glory
Burst forth neath a bright summer sky.
It was no longer a secret
So plain was the swell of her form.
He did not show
And sorry to tell
It seemed that the tale
Could not end well.
The trees were starting to colour
An autumnal nip in the wind.
The promises that he had once made her,
He was all too quick to rescind.
She’d started to show
It was easy to tell.
It was so plain to see
It would not end well.
Andrew Green's Poems 