Tag Archives: spring

Friday Poem: The Seasons in North Cornwall

April 24, 2020Friday Poem, nature, poem, PoetryCharles Causley, Friday Poem, nature, poem, poetry, springThe Cheesesellers Wife

O Spring has set off her green fuses
Down by the Tamar today,
And careless, like tide-marks, the hedges,
Are bursting with almond and may.

Here lie I waiting for old summer,
A red face and straw-coloured hair has he:
I shall meet him on the road from Marazion
And the Mediterranean Sea.

September has flung a spray of rooks
On the sea-chart of the sky,
The tall shipmasts crack in the forest
And the banners of autumn fly.

My room is a bright glass cabin,
All Cornwall thunders at my door,
And the white ships of winter lie
In the sea-roads of the moor.

by Charles Causley

Sunshine in Darkness

April 20, 2020Corona, poem, Poetry, springtimecorona virus, lockdown, poem, poetry, springThe Cheesesellers Wife

Rain and fear had washed away the Sun
Her colours run ragged in the rain
But primroses and daffodils kept
The memory of brightness

Neither of us speak today
Or find a want of speaking
Here now, there is sunshine
And a garden

We use old logs, dead plant stems
To build a bug hotel
A haven and shelter
Still keeping 2 metres apart

Time and the Virus

April 9, 2020Corona, Life, poem, Poetry, springtimecorona virus, Life, poem, poetry, spring, timeThe Cheesesellers Wife

Everything has stopped
Except our beating hearts
This fear, anxiety
Dread
To curtail viral spread
Those things by which we
Often measure passing time
Are gone
Birthday parties, Easter family dinners
Clubs, days out, hanging with friends
Forbidden
Passover is still kept
But changed and
Separately

Oh for a cultural tradition of my own
I could cling onto
Instead in Lockdown, we English
Have changed, seem to be talking more
Greeting fellow walkers with smiles and waves

Nature is apace, pushing forward
Birds sing in the absence of traffic
A blue tit perches in my unused car
Flowers bloom, trees bud
Life burdgeons joyously

In the human world
It is as if the month of March
And, so far, a good part of April
Has been cancelled

Just our still beating hearts
And this fear, anxiety
Dread

And the Sun is out

April 2, 2020humour, Life, poem, Poetry, springtimecorona virus, humour, lockdown, poem, poetry, spring, sunThe Cheesesellers Wife

And the Sun is out
lockdown and panic
had cut my wings
now I fly

but only around the garden

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

Exmoor Spring

May 23, 2018beauty, England, exmoor, poem, PoetryEngland, exmoor, poem, poetry, rhyme, sheep, spring, springtimeThe Cheesesellers Wife

Sheep gnaw at clumps of grass
Buttercups shine as yellow cut-glass
Bluebells haze and blue a bare hill bereft of a wood
And I laze where struggling shepherds once stood.