Category Archives: springtime

Friday Poem: Dear March – Come in

March 20, 2020Friday Poem, poem, Poetry, springtimeEmily Dickinson, Friday Poem, march, poem, poetry, spring, springtimeThe Cheesesellers Wife

Dear March – Come in –
How glad I am –
I hoped for you before –
Put down your Hat –
You must have walked –
How out of Breath you are –
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest –
Did you leave Nature well –
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me –
I have so much to tell –

I got your Letter, and the Birds –
The Maples never knew that you were coming –
I declare – how Red their Faces grew –
But March, forgive me –
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue –
There was no Purple suitable –
You took it all with you –

Who knocks? That April –
Lock the Door –
I will not be pursued –
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am occupied –
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come

That blame is just as dear as Praise
And Praise as mere as Blame –

by Emily Dickinson – 1830-1886

Study in Pink

July 17, 2019beauty, poem, Poetry, springtime, Wild lifebeauty, july, pink, poem, poetry, springThe Cheesesellers Wife

Drowsy July day, warm and humid
Foxgloves cerise as they reach upwards
Brash bright coral Marsh Mallow leans out of the hedgerow
But my eye is caught by the profusion, the abundance
Of pale pale pink Blackberry blossom

Sunday in Spring

June 1, 2019beauty, England, nature, poem, Poetry, springtime, Wild lifeEco-disaster, England, environment, nature, poem, poetry, rooks, spring, wildlifeThe Cheesesellers Wife

Two fields over, Rooks argue
a raucous parley that
goes on and on and on
while other birds sing prettily

Here in the meadow we have knelt
as if worshipping
to peer at tiny pink blooms
wobbling on a frail stem

On the way home
we walk a green lane
lambs call behind a hawthorn hedge
a ewe responds, deep voiced

Pretty bird song
clamorous rooks, bountiful sheep
tremulous flower

Are all remnants
Of a greater whole
Nature worn ragged

Broken
By our actions
Or inactions

And I feel the need to
kneel once more
in supplication
and in fear

The Smell of bees

March 20, 2019beauty, nature, poem, Poetry, springtime, Wild lifebeauty, bee, bees, nature, poem, poetry, spring, springtime, wildlifeThe Cheesesellers Wife

“Bees do have a smell, you know, and if they don’t they should, for their feet are dusted with spices from a million flowers.”
― Ray Bradbury

The Smell of bees

I saw my first bee today, hearing buzzing while weeding
I searched for the little fellow and found him
Bumbling around the Lungwort
Buzzing with glee in the surprise warmth
Black, gold with a red bum
Furry and indomitable
He also harvests my garden
And mine depends on his

Its relief to see a bee today, with all the talk of their demise
Poisoned by chemicals that may yet kill us
Directly, as doses build, or indirectly
As my garden companions cease to pollinate
And harvests drop
The smell of small dusty bees
Will no longer tantalise my nostrils
Nor will the fragrance of food

I actually saw my first Bumble Bee last week– it is warm very early here this year.

Spring

March 2, 2019poem, Poetry, springtimepoem, poetry, springThe Cheesesellers Wife

Spring is a pump
pushing sap and life
out of cold earth

Electricity brims
at the lips
of fast moving streams

All is fresh
new
potentialities

Stone in the water

May 9, 2018beauty, nature, poem, Poetry, springtimebeauty, exmoor, Life, poem, poetry, spring, springtimeThe Cheesesellers Wife

Deep plunge pool in the heart of the moor
Centred in spring time unfurling of bracken
Shadowed by a twisted thorn tree
Water pours in over a mossy lip
Large pebbles line the sloping
Glowing colours in crystal water

Something falls
Breaks the surface
Circles upon circles radiate
Contours ripple to a point of disappearance
Sparkle in the dawn light
Stone in the water

Re-blogged from 2016.

Study in Yellow

May 2, 2018beauty, garden, Life, nature, poem, Poetry, springtimeLife, nature, poem, poetry, primroses, spring, springtime, yellowThe Cheesesellers Wife

Pale primrose lies by the chicken pen
Bold Daffodils stand up in the border
Screaming Marsh Marigold calls from the pond
Subtle oranges somehow manage to cool down the tubbed Narcissi
Spring yells yellow in my garden

Re-blogged from 2016, when spring was actually warm, unlike the chill this year….

The plant place

June 9, 2017children, Life, nature, parenting, philosophy, poem, Poetry, springtimechildren, Gardening, Life, parenting, philosophy, plants, poem, poetryThe Cheesesellers Wife

Today we visited the plant place
Delighted in sturdy trees and shrubs
And many small flowers nurtured to full brightness
In a long slow chill spring
By a couple who could be us in fifteen years time
We took time to linger, to chat and choose
Brought home Lavender, rooted stems of Blackthorn
Several small domes of Thyme
“We bought some Thyme” I said to our teen-aged son
Who contested that time cannot be bought
But is spent often heedlessly
Slipping away unnoticed
We bought time in his younger days with reduced incomes
Time spent with him and his brother
Not wasted, but well-used and treasured
I delight in this sturdy young man
Tended and taught, growing to the light
Both plants and children need tender care
Nurseries are a well spring of civilisation

The”Plant place” is Wolverton Plants. I wrote this a couple of months ago after a visit on my birthday, and have just found it again on a stray piece of paper. I publish it today in honour of ‘Where are the Chickens’ new baby son….

https://wherearethechickens.com/2017/06/08/blackberries-and-a-baby/

Fosbury Fort

May 9, 2017archeology, beauty, nature, poem, Poetry, springtimearcheology, flowers, Fosbury Fort, hill fort, nature, prehistory, spring, springtimeThe Cheesesellers Wife

Skylarks sing and soar
We walk encircling ramparts
Gazing at the still deep ditch
Imploring the grassy interior
Unyielding of its secrets
Bluebell woods encompass almost two quadrants
Storms have tipped mossy trees into the line of defence
Making us clamber and slip
Amid the fragrant blue

….we went walking in Jane Austen country this lunchtime (on Doctors orders), and explored the hill fort on Haydown Hill……….

Prosody

May 8, 2017art, poem, Poetry, springtimepoem, poetry, prosody, rhyme, springThe Cheesesellers Wife

I am enjamming
Collating rhythm and sound
Until it feels right
I am versifying
Taking words and playing around
On a chilly Spring night