(Observation on unseasonal weather).
This early spring
This early spring
is yet to paint its colours fast,
a hazy bud break on folded limbs, blows
grey green smoke and swirls of lime and olive
the branches are quietly mesmerised.
Chaotic hedgerows bleed
and newly shorn
sport a watercolour swathe
of washed russets
more akin to autumn.
Competing blackbirds
urgently over sing the criticism
of fractious magpie banter,
the poetry and words of springtime
spills into our ears.
So hold back the spoiling summer
heat, where beauty blossoms
to swiftly fade, stolen innocence withers
and perfumed puberty dies
amongst the once fresh grasses.
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