As The Light Changes

The East Anglian Daily Times ran an article entitled ’22 beautiful poems about East Anglia’ in their Saturday magazine insert on March 18th this year.

I was very pleased to see this poem of mine on the same page as poems by Sir Walter Raleigh and George Szirtes.


Spring’s subtle mechanisms unwind dormancy

tipping earth’s spin towards our  blazing star

shortening division between long night and light.

Magnetic North guides migrants from the South,

 feathers aligned to the field’s guiding force,

numberless nomads, riding favoured winds

 urgently carrying their awaited gift of song,

as Robins re-tune winter belling into ballad.


Stark Blackthorn blooms in earthbound clouds,

 Primroses light the gloominess of ditches

drawing bumble bees from solemn hibernation.

Not to be outdone bracken  flexes green croziers,

 whilst coconut scent of Gorse jokes of the tropics

and tattered Peacock Butterflies briefly are exotic.

Revived life is boisterous;   survival is selfish:

Wood Anemones retreat from advancing Bluebells

aggressive Alexanders dominate the field’s edge

creeping Comfrey overwhelms small shy Violets,

when warming quickens the slowest will submerge.


Frantic actions seek to sate  primed genetic urges;

Drakes gang rape Ducks around the village pond,

polygamists  Dunnocks  gather on the ground,

 buck Hares rear to box and Snipe dive to drum.

Above forest tracks roding Woodcock  weave and croak.

Frogs writhe, legs thrust, a frenzied  annual  tango .

Then Nightingales arrive, the thicket heart’s soloists,

whilst Silver Birch resurrect with fast flowing sap.

Leaves stretch for Sun, but  the  Oaks  seem  to sulk

as if the Spring’s warmth deliberately annoys  them.

Like the Oak I am locked in my own slow Autumn,

 a  long  life,  multi-ringed by  seasons of maturing,

 time envious of beginnings stirring all around me.




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