Day 667 of the daily poems, and it is 01 October. “Who Knows Where the Time Goes?” sang Sandy Denny. It was her last song. We are coming towards the end of our Buried Treasure theme; there are just a few poems left. Our poet today, Fiona Clark, cleverly melds the end of Summer – “Golden lads and girls all must / As chimney sweepers, come to dust” – with the buried treasure of the dandelion seed “hoarded against the Spring” …
Chimney sweeper
Star-headed ‘chimney sweeper,’
blown to dust by wishes
of all those hopeful girls and lads
who glimmered and were gone.
Airborne silver seeds spiral,
skydivers taking their chance
with the random currents:
some fall on stony shores,
and some root deep in earth,
buried gold and silver,
hoarded against the Spring,
dent-de-lion, waiting
to burst free with golden mane,
clasping an early bee or two,
drinking in the sunlight
Fiona Clark
Littoral Magazine has accepted this poem.
‘Chimney sweeper’ is an old Warwickshire word for a dandelion clock, used by Shakespeare in his elegy from ‘Cymbeline’ (Golden lads and girls all must / As chimney sweepers, come to dust).