May Morning

Now it is almost summer, warmth returns,
May blossom hangs the air with honey scents
and smells of thyme and woodrush haunt the borders.
The daffodils have spent their golden glory,
tulips now fill the beds, rigid and closed,
then opening their satin petals wide
like a woman opening herself to love.
Fritillary and damson flowers have gone,
blown by a breeze, but apple tree and pear
are swathed with heavy blossom.
The tall perennials are in full leaf,
flowers ready to break, forgotten now
their brown and skeletal February guise.
The chestnut candles are alight and glowing,
marsh marigolds like sovereigns line the pond
with darting tadpoles turning into frogs.

The sun is high, the days stretch out their light,
the boughs are clothed in leaf, the grass is bright,
the air is singing with the flights of birds,
winter has lost it’s grip, winter has gone,
The dark and cold and lethargy forgotten.


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