Our poet today, Jane Monach, on Day 488 of the daily new poems, writes of a Spring replete with natural beauty. Whan that Aprille with his shoures soote, / The droghte of March hath perced to the roote – then Spring comes.
Spring comes
with hello and farewell to magnolia trees
as pink-tinged cream, blooms
from south to north. Cherry blossoms
bend to touch grass uncut,
aconites and celandines
startle the woods with colour,
primroses and quiet violets creep.
Bluebells cascade sheltered slopes.
Spring comes with a blackbird’s thrilling song,
back again in Nether Edge
among thick branches.
In the Bole Hills’ trees
a wren trills, and on the moors
below Mam Tor
a lone skylark soars.
Spring comes as Derbyshire’s purple mist
changes to billowed green.
Bouquets of snowy hawthorns
rest against dry stone walls;
the wool of new lambs absorbs
the moistured dirt of fields,
then turns to grey and fawn.
Spring comes in yellow rape seed and buttercup.
Thick grasses topped by cow parsley
fill the banks of parks and fields.
In sunshine, butterflies dance:
brimstone, orange tip
peacock and tortoiseshell.
Everything expands
and flowers with life.
Jane Monach