Sunshine colours


Spring bulbs flourish;

Sunshine colours lift our spirits;

Delicate drifts of croci emerge as The mist dissolves behind the trees,

Birch branches shimmer in the breeze.

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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!

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.

Luxurious Tulips


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Luxurious Tulips
Like dancers’ rippling tunics;
Their hips swivelling and
Hands twizzling hoops
Which swoop, cascading to tunes
Played on pixie flutes.

Blissful blossom


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Blossom floats blissfully
Like gossamer,
Kissing our faces
With fairy breath.

On my walks now blossom is bountiful in wonderful rich cherry pinks to the most delicate  whites. It is the translucent whites which I love to look up and see wonderful patterns and shadows and smell nature’s sweet spring breath. Magic!

Periwinkles Twinkling


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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.

Billowy Skyes


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Billowy skies like antique grey galvinised pales,
Overflowing with silky butter,
Churning a country tale.

Tick tock dandelion clock


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Tick tock Dandelion clock.
Seeds of Thyme and memories like a good wine.
Tompion’s cottage garden is where clock enthusiasts flock:
Little Tom Thumb swings from pendulums of spider’s thread,
Landing in a beautifully scented pink flowery bed.

I have been fascinated by this lovely old cottage for some time,so this morning as I drove past it, the golden early morning sunshine lit up the ravishing cottage garden so beautifully that I had to stop and take this photo. Tompion’s cottage at Ickwell Green, in Bedfordshire, England is very important part of Bedfordshire’s heritage and in fact England’s too. Thomas Tompion was the father of English Clockmakers and watchmakers (born c 1639and died 1713). He was buried in Westminster Abbey,London. The cottage was his home and is now maintained by the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers. His prestigious clocks are still fully operational today.
I hope you enjoy with me in his garden!

Calming Cowslips


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Calming cowslips,
A remedy of old:
Sip three spoonfuls of flowers
Steeped in a powerful mead.

Time for a bountiful spring we’re told.
Yellow fairy bells in sparkling ruby finery,
Tinkling on a breezy evening
As golden sunshine winks and leaves.

Spring splashes


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Spring splashes
Between weary evergreens
And lean stretching trees.
A golden brook of
Daffodils lyrically babbles
And violets hide in every nook,
Adorning the woodland floor.
Spring’s door has gently opened,
Surprising us and giving
Hope.

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Yesterday,  even though the sunshine didn’t manage to peep through the clouds, spring’s door had opened with its perfumed breath. Joyously,  we walked through an old Victorian park in Bedford,  chatting and taking in the splashes of emerging colourful buds and flowers. It was a beautiful day. Thank you nature and thank you  friends for putting up with me diving about taking photos. 🙂