spring at last emerges
almost too late
to position itself
centre stage.
A final twirl, a bow
sweeping the footlights
taking the limelight
laying down
its profusion of greens
its heady fragrances
such signs
of life’s abundance
all showered at our feet.
A few more days
and summer
casting spring aside
will be upon us.
Be careful where you walk:
a purple orchid
plucked just in time
from the relentless mower
daisies
a golden drift of buttercups
vivid blue speedwell
ox-eyes
unfolding as we watch
bluebells
cowslips
the deepest of red clovers
plantains holding on
to their dainty quivers of white petals
and the purple vetch
a glorious tangled paradise.
Rooks fly upwards
circle, settle
in the topmost branches
of a spreading oak.
The horses swish their tails.
Soon it will be summer,
the first swallows
sleek with bright new plumage
swooping and snaking
above the lake,
eager to announce its coming.
The little clocktower peals out
the music of its chimes
telling the quarters
but not the passing of the year.
Julia Duke