Two thousand and twelve, in this year of our Lord,
has been so really outstanding,
to start so dry, without accord,
and at first no rain with-standing.
Then summer came, and with it the rain,
and in torrents it filled our lives.
With floods and chaos in the main,
and despair for washing wives.
But amidst this gloom, the sun it shone,
on the 5th of July in Kent.
those grey clouds, at last were gone,
sun shone where the angels meant.
A babe was born, amidst the cherubs fanfare,
sweet Violet Primrose Harrison,
a babe with innocence beyond compare,
no flower within comparison.
You cannot have flowers without some showers,
a wise man was once to have said,
so Violet will blossom, with the passing hours,
as with love by her parents she’s led.