On the Seventh day

I saw fireflies on the first day.

small, and bright and gold.
They made my head feel soft and light
my heart feel warm and cold.

On the second day it sort of rained,
I couldn't see anything at all.
but from the shadowed woods a Robin sang,

its bright, sweet, courting call.

And just like that the third day came,
the fourth day went as well.
The rain gave way, the sun shone bright
the flowers puffed and swelled.

And so, burst forth, from the small flower bed
the buzy bees from their hive,
and also butterflies, and small little birds
when finally came, day five.

On day six amongst the clouds,
Were two swans high up in the air.
They fluttered and dived and cavorted and loved

and were truly, a magnificent pair.

Then on day seven I decided to go,
A little further away from home
over the hills and meadows to lands beyond
though, not quite as far as Rome.

And when day eight came, as I returned to our home
and thought of you lying in bed,
I realised that for all wonder of the natural world,
I'd much rather have you, instead.