Tag Archives: spring

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.

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….

Rainy Day poem

May 20, 2017garden, Life, nature, poem, Poetry, weathergarden, Life, rain, rainy day, spring, springtime, weatherThe Cheesesellers Wife

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

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

Memory

April 22, 2017beauty, garden, Life, poem, Poetrychildhood, heat, Life, memory, nature, poem, poetry, spring, summer, sunThe Cheesesellers Wife

Memory

Lost in the dynamic of memory
Drowsing in the heat
Breathing scents of my childhood
Unsettled
Breezes rouse and cool
Jets drone high above
Sinking into my minds depth
In the embrace of warm afternoon

Spring Flowers

April 10, 2017Amsterdam, art, beauty, garden, Life, nature, Painting, springtime, watercolourart, beauty, flowers, Gardening, Life, nature, Painting, spring, springtime, sun, tulip, watercolourThe Cheesesellers Wife

The tulips are just beginning to open in my back garden. Are yours still to come, or have they been and gone?

The Smell of bees

April 1, 2017beauty, nature, poem, Poetry, Science, springtime, Wild lifebee, bumble, flowers, food, Gardening, nature, poem, poetry, spring, springtimeThe 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

Snowdrops

February 18, 2017beauty, garden, nature, poem, Poetry, Snowdrops, springtime, Wild life, winterbeauty, England, flowers, Gardening, Life, nature, poem, seasons, Snowdrops, spring, springtime, winterThe Cheesesellers Wife

Snowdrops

No snow but snowdrops
Clumping along hedgerows
Sliding down roadside verges
Sauntering in woodlands
Appearing big and bold against midwinter browns