Spring’s not sprung … nor unsung

We are waiting for Spring, impatiently, I have to say, because UK has not had the mildest winter on record. We've had snow, frosts, winds, and enough rain to supply parched Cape Town with sufficient water to survive about a dozen annual droughts.

Walk in an English country garden, or a town one, and you can feel that the plants are as eager to get going as the gardener is to witness the Spring miracle.

The blackbirds are in full song, daffodils are doing their best in the rain and gales and snow. But where is Spring!!!

Suddenly, a poetical feeling of spring is in the air, thanks to that master poet, Robert Graham.

Here's his excellent tribute to this usually beautiful beginning of the warmer chapters of the year. It's on his website at Healing Gardens dot click.

March daffodils

Pause
On the unstoppable flowery alchemies of March,
Rushing towards you everywhere you do not look,
Rest on these golden islands of warm little suns,
Until the summer comes,

Daffodils,
That arrived in blue battalions,
Boxing with the winds
That whips cheeks warm,

Celandines,
Glossy, show-stopping stars of the hedgerows,
Arms outstretched in final routine below break-dancing catkins.

Narcissi
In busy crowds, hanging onto themselves,
Going about their flowerings, no time to talk,

Continues on the blogs for my ocean adventure story, Sailing to Purgatory, at SailingToPurgatory.com