Today I bring you another of Blyton’s poems from The Enid Blyton Poetry Book called An Evening of June, which is somewhat appropriate for we have just entered the month of June. I hope you enjoy it!

Slowly the sun slips over the hill,
The Shadows of the trees are long,
The blackbird opens his gleaming bill,
And whistles an evensong,
And slowly lumbering down the lane
The hay-wagon comes with its load again.

The hedges look on a the horses pass
And fling out a mischievous spray,
They catch at the burden of scented grass,
And pull little pieces away.
And by all their booty ’tis easy to know,
The way that the lumbering hay-wagons go.

Past the wild roses, delicate, frail,
Whose petals fall soft on the breeze,
Down the long hillside and into the vale
Beneath all the shadowy tress,
Past all the poppies that dance by the road
The hay-wagon carries its very last load.

Its a shame you don’t really get hay-wagons anymore isn’t it, but you do get the same thing with tractors almost when they move the hay!