In Buxton, when a balmy breeze
Sometimes, politely sways the trees
And clouds decide to part and melt
To let us know how spring once felt...
We dance, like dervish in a dream,
Beneath the sun, as she does stream
In rays, that warm our blighted bones.
And all those graceless gripes and groans
(That winter wrung from us, when snow
Dug in, like war, and would not go)
Disperse, like early morning mist
When we\'re caressed in spring and kissed
In Buxton, by a balmy breeze
We stand up tall as timeless trees
In touch with years when youth was king
And we had souls that still could sing.