Celandine

The woods are lined with celandine, it seems:
The paths dotted with little yellow flowers;
And in the woods a girl can have her dreams
And she can fantasise for hours on hours;
There is no chiff-chaff song yet - northern winds
Have held them back, but you can hum a tune
when a man wends his way and when he finds
The celandine and you are both in bloom;

Two days of sunshine and the buds appear
The hedgerows in the woods can now conceal
The smile upon your face and then the tear
That trickles down your cheek, as I reveal
My need for you and, in your gratitude,
You could kneel down to get sir in the mood.