... beside the brown churned Avon where Shakespeare sleeps; lime green WATERFALLS of dripping light. Almost overnight, the bare LIMBS of the chestnuts, beloved by rook and crow, fill out with new LEAVES. They flap and flutter, hanging low like SLEEPING bats... emerald, fluttering, sleeping, bats.
Down the lanes, blossom FROSTS the blackthorn bushes; white and honey sweet.
But here, the COLOURS of spring are waterfalls of lime... and EMERALD sleeping bats..