primroses and tadpoles

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It is a time of primroses and tadpoles.

The ice of winter cracks and melts.

Life bubbles through the water of the mere

and skeletons of trees smudge into green.

It is a time of life made new.

The shadow of Januarys cloud is fading

and wrens are building in the ivy once again.

Sometimes the warmth of spring melts me like butter,

but still theres frost upon the ground.

The blackbirds cadence slips surreptitiously

between the leaves of sadness,

but I am still the empty chalice on springs altar.

*   *   *   *   *   *    *

Barefoot on cool damp grass is bliss!

Between my naked toes it tickles,

the water droplets sprinkle on my skin.

Elusive memory!

*   *   *   *   *   *   *

Could that be the aurora borealis in the sky?

A gently revolving cone of purple light

unfurls like folds in a soft dull curtain.

Surely were too far south for that?

But it was there, for us.

Standing in the night-time garden

we hear the snails munching

and chickens grumbling in their shuffly sleep.

And something, somewhere, screeches

in this country darkness.

If we'd but known how little time we had -

to marvel at such secret intimacies!

◄ Surround me - London cries

silver polish ►

Comments

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Ann Foxglove

Mon 20th Dec 2010 05:10

Thanks guys. And it's definately Ms. Fox! ;-)

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Dave Bradley

Sun 19th Dec 2010 15:47

I really like this Ann - would go with what Greg says about it. It does a lovely job of linking time, place and emotion.
Thanks for commenting on 'Christmas' so quickly and positively - appreciated

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Ann Foxglove

Sun 19th Dec 2010 15:29

Hi Ray - yes, I think it always was two poems! Funnily enough, it came about after a writing exercise (homework for a group of writing friends) where we each picked a random word and then had to fit all of them into a piece of writing. In this version I left out a bit which had "lighthouse" and "shadow" in! But tadpoles was one of the words - in fact, it was the one that I chose! The second bit is more like conversation, and describes a memory close to my heart.

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Ray Miller

Sun 19th Dec 2010 11:57

Ann. I'll be a dissenting voice here. I think you have a cracking poem in the first 12 lines and don't need the rest. The last 3 lines I'd suggest:
The blackbird’s cadence slips surreptitious
between leaves of sadness,
and I'm the empty chalice on spring’s altar.

That's altar!

<Deleted User> (7212)

Sun 19th Dec 2010 10:02

Hi - I love this Ann, every bit - I thought it was a bit "out-of-time" & seems I was right. I have one about February written a few Feb's ago - but I'm going to wait til the coming Feb to post it ! XX. B

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Greg Freeman

Sat 18th Dec 2010 21:58

Top, top form. Loads of beautiful lines in this, Ann. "The ice of winter cracks and melts./ Life bubbles through the water of the mere / and skeletons of trees smudge into green." Thanks for giving us this to look forward to. Psst! I think you should put it as a sample on your profile page

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winston plowes

Sat 18th Dec 2010 19:34

No, i have a weakness for this style Ann, lol . Win x

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Ann Foxglove

Sat 18th Dec 2010 19:29

Ta Win. I actually felt that the bit you mentioned sounded maybe too wordy and old fashioned. So glad you liked it!

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winston plowes

Sat 18th Dec 2010 19:27

Hi Ann,

thanks for posting this, Ah the southern lights. To be fair a bit of this (and not the northern lights bit grabbed me) its this -

The blackbird’s cadence slips surreptitiously
between the leaves of sadness,
but I am still the empty chalice on spring’s alter.

fabulous stuff and rhythm.

Win X

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Ann Foxglove

Sat 18th Dec 2010 19:23

Written last March - when it was a time of primroses and tadpoles!And it must be about six years ago that we saw the lights in the sky and heard our chickens sleeping.

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