Tag Archives: spring

Rainy Day poem

Refreshingly grey day
Cars softly swish past
Light staccato rain
Washing the world clean
Bejewelling my windows
Where muted light
Shines in stopped droplets
Gently loosing blossoms
And wiping them away
Rinsing down new leaves
Dripping from bent over grasses
Soaking the seed bed
Sparking spring growth

Copyright © 2017 Kim Whysall-Hammond

And the budding begins

And the budding begins
sticky tree buds emerge
from bare wood

Reddish at first
shading to luminous green
a promise

Nature now waits
as do I, with baited breath
for the right moment

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

This is a rewrite of an earlier poem, Study in Green, re-visited for Sarahs challenge about seasonal changes over at EarthWeal

Friday Poem: The Seasons in North Cornwall

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

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

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Time and the Virus  

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

Copyright © 2020 Kim Whysall-Hammond

Friday Poem: Dear March – Come in

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