Three poems of hope, and to celebrate Spring.

These must be the strangest, most testing and troublesome times that the vast majority of us have ever experienced. Today is the Spring Equinox, and here in West Wales we awoke to bright sunshine – a joy after many long months of rain, and greyness. There are of course, darkly invisible forces at work among us all just now and I like many, probably nearly everyone, am watching with a deal of trepidation. And my heart goes out to all people, everywhere, who are suffering, one way or another, as a consequence of this horrible virus.  And equally my thanks, invisible also, but, I trust, benign, go out to all who are striving to make things safe. To heal, to care.

These three poems are offered as small songs, tiny tokens of hope. Poetry doesn’t cure, but maybe it offers balm. The first was written just now. The second is an older refrain, after a glorious walk in the woods, with Helen, Phoebe and Maisie.

And the third is from someone recently discovered…but that’s another story.   

Thanks for reading these. Please feel free to share. And whoever you are, wherever in the world you are, I hope you and yours stay safe, stay well and that the months ahead will bring new hope, new realisations and that, as a species, we grasp the possibility that what we learn from all this might help us to make real and lasting change.

Go well friends.

1). March 20th 2020.

Spring blew in today –

sunburst marigold,

washing line cloud scudded

the breeze blistered

a touch cold blooded.

Two siskins, freshly arrived

tanked up on niger seed.

Daffodils soared skyward,

snowdrops still unbowed,

grape hyacinths abound

and the first forget – me – nots

shyly stepping forward

gentian washed aloud.

The box hedge took no heed.

 

Our land, our world

is gripped by fever

the animal that roared.

There’s darkness, sadness, grief

and loss abroad

whilst change is in the air.

Amidst the early signs of growth,

degrees of illness and despair.

 

But, the grass will grow

the wind will blow

the moon will rise

the sun will shine

despite the rain and hail.

People come, and likewise go

but nature must prevail,

and we must help it do so.

Hera will buzz the walls and lanes

with little fuss

unaware of our travails.

And, to quote this poet

as the blackbirds, robins, finches, sparrows

throng the air

and call

and sing

maybe remonstrate.

Despite it all

let’s celebrate

the joy of spring driven things…

Hera in the sunshine.

 

2). Composed some 10 or so years ago.

Spring driven thing

 

It’s a spring like day

And we are walking

Three dogs, you and I

In Pengelly woods

Marvelling at the cathedral of trees

Stepping through the quickening stems of wild garlic and of

Bluebells, pushing up promises

There’s a rough bench to rest on

And the chance to sit

Watching the stream slip by

Calling out its spring time song

Water music for the ear

Greened bark and worsened stone

Go gently on the eye

We talk, you’re writing once more

A matter of delight

Whilst spring adopts its rites alike

We recommence our Sunday hike

Kicking up a storm of last year’s leaf fall

Marshmallowed moulded woodland floor

Winter slowly shrinking back

As the new season slides through the quietly opening door.

 

And finally:

 

3). A poem from a guest poet, Natalie Harrington, my niece.

 

Our Family Tree.

 

Years ago, our roots took form

Sculpting an intriguing canopy

They matured and grew, producing life

Creating our family tree.

 

Foliage formed, beautiful and rare

Each leaf its own design

Separating, reaching far and wide

That,  in their uniqueness shine.

 

Although trees leaves bide separately

Their roots remain as one

Our family tree, our roots, our love

Can never be undone.

 

Thanks Natalie – for writing this and for sharing it.

Phoebe and Maisie – etched upon our hearts.

 

 

 

 

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