Spring left her golden cloak behind her, <br />It's suspended in the branches of a tree <br />Plain to see in the woods of Coolnaleen, <br />Out of sight deep below the rising road <br /> Beside the stream that's calming down <br /> And gently falls to every eddying pool, <br />Waiting for the transformation to begin. <br />She must have dropped in here this year <br />To tell each budding bluebell to appear.<br /><br />Matt Mooney<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-golden-cloak/
