by Hannah Richardson13 Jul 2014
Pure in petal and promise, cowslips
Decorate every footpath and track
At this – summer’s happy dawn.
As walkers pass they hold their scent
For a moment, some take it on their journey.
They are as certain as the stars
That switch on the night sky,
Little tiaras of brightness appearing
As if commanded by summer’s wand.
The white witch of winter
Sends the Hallowe’en cobwebs soaring
With the fireworks into the smoky sky.
Several weeks hence they will land as snow.
And while the ground stiffens and guards itself
Under her frosty blanket,
The gossamer of spring gathers its power.
And then as reliable as the factory bell,
As sure as the white cat losing its fur,
The delicate white cobwebs speckled with dew
Fall once again on the waiting stamens.
And diamonds appear one by one
Draping their faithful beauty over what is.
Never out-manoeuvred by the last of the late frosts,
Cowslips herald the end of spring’s treachery
And signal the hot, hazy comfort
Of the coming sun.