A Sweet May-day

...est in Arcadia ego...

This early morning air: pellucid, refreshingly soft

A time of hush, just before that cacaphony

Of hope that marks a sweet May dawn - the lifter

Of moods, the harbinger of hope, the visionary self. 

Filled with all the quiet majesty of an English breeze

Stirring the leafy canopy as the sun begins to 

Shadow, half-created dappled zephyrs blow.

Mistress Serenity stirs to waken me with an echo

Of tranquillity, hinting, to me of that sense of 'quiddity',

That borderless 'whatness' of every living thing,

That fleetingly draws me to the marvels of every day

Butterflies, green leaves, bird-song, drift away

As thrushes  build so do they sing. In May-time. 

This palimpsest tells of our enduring stewardship

Of all the passing glories of this one-May day


A simple guide to the wildflowers of Britain - Country Life

◄ Pebbles from my skull



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Martin Elder

Wed 20th May 2020 17:51

There are some beautiful uses of words her fed lovingly into some excellent lines

Nice one John

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Wed 20th May 2020 07:54

Your poem is like a Maypole in mind John

It has my mind spinning and weaving meandering round and round
its intricate intimate patterns, blossoming with abundance in every line.

The music accompanying it is perfect.

Joyous and blissful.

My hat's off to you 😉

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