Getting goose bumps at the brush of new
leaves gushing together on a warm wind.
The soft crunch of grass underfoot
Like the pad of foot on snow.
A mustard brown duck waddles towards me, his comrade in tow,
over daisies snow dropped on grass.
Think of your favourite place.
I think mine would be the grassy downs
Where you’ll see a kestrel hovering,
Where I’m guaranteed an hour of peace,
Where in summer dandelion clocks
Sway silhouetted against
A golden sun.
Where I’ll be home.
Emeralds hang from the treetops,
glinting in milky rays of
a peeping sun.
Juicy buds gather,
tinkling birdsong amidst
the newborn canopy.
White sea-foam of
elderflower and meadowsweet
spray the grassy banks.
Just love it in spring when everything bursts into life.
The magnolia was slowly turning to leaf.
Wide high heather hedged
around the cottage.
I suppress a cough
As the green man beeps for no cars.
The lake looked luxurious,
Opalescent folds of china blue,
Twinkling stars upon water,
Gold russet rushes gently swaying,
Lime catkins freshly woven onto dangling branches.
A Moorhen wades in the riverbed,
Diamond ripples orbiting its sillouhette.
Plump new leaves bedeck the low horse chestnut trees and their fingers stream in steamy shallows.
Went to wollaton Park again today and the light was stunning.
I can see Spring
and her fine colours
I long to stand under the
cherry blossom tree as
it rains confetti down on me.
Instead I stand in real rain, hazy,
pattering, smatterings of daffodils
pressed against barbed wire.
So they closed the formal garden at wollaton Park but I could look in on it from outside
I stand in the dilapidated chapel.
Paint peeling from the walls like the bark
of a silver birch.
Dull light cascades in from high archways.
I now approach the manor, in through
the kissing gate kissed with moss and dew.
A ****** of crows battle across the battlements in still air.