Today being the second of May I have decided to publish a second post.
Not so much about English, but an example of how this language can be used to great effect.
Having an insight into the life of saplings (comes with the job etc), this poem by Phillip Larkin, is rather close to my heart. Maybe even more so today.
I hope you enjoy reading it.
The trees are coming into leaf
Like something almost being said;
The recent buds relax and spread,
Their greenness is a kind of grief.
Is it that they are born again
And we grow old? No, they die too,
Their yearly trick of looking new
Is written down in rings of grain.
Yet still the unresting castles thresh
In fullgrown thickness every May.
Last year is dead, they seem to say,
Begin afresh, afresh, afresh.