Hawthorn morning

Hawthorn petals

like a lace wedding veil,

torn in a March gale;

sailing on scented winds

like fairy wings-

bringing spring’s tingling feeling

of happy, lingering, sunny days.

 
This poem is dedicated to yesterday’s International Poetry Day and a celebration of spring.

I’m really enjoying our walks in the countryside around Cople. Each day I wonder how many more buds are out, what suprises are there under the hedgerows: daisies, celedine, anemonies and tiny violets. Skylarks serenade us along the paths at the edges of fields and red kites circle above. Our prize is watching the brown hares running along the furrows and sunning themselves. Such beauty is to be savoured every moment!

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The troubadour

The troubadour seeks hellibores

As his muse,

He visualises a heart wreath made of

Velvet warm petals,  meek rose pink

Twinkling  flowers and snow whites in fine fettle:

A delicate meander of pattern and colour.

From his medieval stone garret,

He weaves his words of love and valour.

Periwinkles Twinkling

A sprinkling of lavender jewels twinkle;
Periwinkles’ are fairies tools,
Wound on earth’s spindles,
Into wedding bedding
With rose quartz runes.
As newly weds sleep,
Their dreams steep
Together so they are bound
Peacefully forever.

Majestic Heron

Majestically,  a heron
Poises like an alabaster statuette.
When a ripple in the water
Takes his fancy,
The handsome heron
Dips quickly into the
Silent, sunlit pool.
Flipping his catch
Proudly, he moves from his patch
In a dash,
With a glinting flicker
Of feathers,
Singing in
The wind.

Soulful Roses

Soulful roses,

Lover’s tipsy posies

They sip dewy petal potions

As their rouched lips

Whisper

A tryst…

Betroval.