Spring, Early morning
Spring, early morning.
Sitting beneath the half-arch
Of the bayleaf tree,
On the old wooden garden bench -
Early morning, the first full day of Spring.
A cup of warm coffee,
A smoothie bowl of banana,
Avocado and chia seed, topped
With walnuts, golden raisins, goji berries.
Cool, crisp, and hazy—
Soft sunlight breathing
Seasonal new life,
A quiet awakening.
I sit apart from it,
Yet quietly within—
Still, observing, serene,
Flooded with innocent memory.
Jewels of dew on the lawn
And the broad-leafed tulips,
Long-stemmed and short—
Reds, pinks, yellows, whites.
Bright daffodils bow and sway,
Primroses bring gentle colour
To a forgotten corner
Behind a moss-covered standing stone.
Tips of green unfurl
On the red boughs
Of the Japanese maple
And the three hibiscus.
The herb garden—sage,
Savoury, lemon balm, verbena,
Parsley, thyme, oregano, chive—
Waits for eager culinary hands.
Flowering strawberry plants,
Rose-coloured rhubarb stalks,
Fresh mint—
All hinting at summer puddings.
A cockerel in the distance,
Nature’s alarm clock—
Wake up. Wake up.
Hiding in the branches,
A little red-breasted robin sings
His bright, insistent song,
Just to say: I’m here.
A blackbird lands on the fence,
Briefly surveying the ground
For slimy morsels
To catch his beady eye.
Ducks rise from
The dark green canal,
A woodpecker drums a steady beat,
A collared dove softly coos.
Tiny pale mauve butterflies—
Parma violet sweets on wing.
The first shift of bees emerges,
Focused on the day’s work.
And on the window ledge next door—
The neighbour’s cat.
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