At the Water Meadow

After three days of sunlight

the May bursts forth,

shining white stars amongst hedgerow leaves.

In the marshlands tall grasses wave feathered plumes of gold and cream,

tender on green silken stems.

The sycamore bedecked in bright green catkin tails sways in a gentle breeze,

a reminder of lambs.

A blackbirds sings atop the cedars outstretched limbs,

a dark silhouette against bright blue sky.

Dandelions with sun-filled faces

spread across suddenly verdant pasture.

The air is filled with the scent of new mown grass,

fresh cut blades scatter at the grey roads side

as I wander home in the falling light.

 

At my door,

one dandelion forces its way upwards

through the red tiles of the doorstep,

spring strong, shining,

a signal that summer comes.

 

Life bursts into bud

quiet fanfare for summer

warmth, wonder, delight.

Love is equally enlightening.