Spring Morning

[Ben Grader]

On a spring morning, when the early sun
glistens the dew on tufted grass;
and a cock pheasant in the covert
imperiously calls to his sober toned hens.
When the buds start to burst, and the catkins
show on the fringe of the hazel wood.
My heart awakens from its winter torpor and rejoices.

A missel thrush constructs her nest
concealed in the ivy, and blue ****
prospect around holes in the ash trees.
Looking from my viewpoint on the hills
I can see across the levels, there,
blued in the distance by the mist
the hedgerows march like an army
in serried ranks across the moors

On a nearby bank primroses
have blossomed in a sheltered spot
and the heady fragrance of hidden
violets, fills the air with their scent.
If there's a heaven God
for such as me;
grant me a spring morning
which will last eternally.


Sorry for the censorship blue **** was actually blue t.i.t.s. a small bird of the Titmouse family.

[Mac]

wonderful feel to this one Ben, enjoyed very much.

Mac

[nannabug]

*sigh* Makes me long for Spring all the more, Ben. You've given me a sip and now I wish to take long drinks from Spring's cool waters.

imperiously calls to his sober toned hens

I've heard their calls often. This area abounds with pheasants. They often come into the corrals to peck the grain the horses drop.

[Ben Grader]

Thanks for the comments, Mac - Nannabug, There is a 'shoot' near Clevedon and pheasants abound in the area because of strays from their breeding ground. We even have pheasants wandering in the town itself, what with them and muntjac deer which are spreading across the country from park escape'es we should be able to call ourselves an animal refuge before long rather than a town.

[TRexroth]

im starting to read certain poems out loud
and this one gave me a sense of some very beutiful
imagery
trex

[Michael]

Ben, you’ve captured the sparkle of a spring morning with a vivid splendor. “Spring Morning” awakens spring time for me, even if it’s only in the mind.
Originally posted by Ben Grader
Looking from my viewpoint on the hills
I can see across the levels, there,
blued in the distance by the mist
the hedgerows march like an army
in serried ranks across the moors
I like the way that you use “blue” as a verb in the stanza above, not to mention the simile that gives the stanza life. Oh, I did mention it, didn’t I? :D

Nicely written.

[Ben Grader]

Thanks Trex, Michael, This one was written many years ago - about 1960 I think - When I used to deliver parraffin to households in the country. One morning in early spring I was up on the hills overlooking the 'levels' - we get a lovely diffusion of atmosphere in the distance here because of the rhines draining the fields on the moors - and this just came into being. About ten minutes I suppose of doing calls and thinking it out, scribbling it down as the next lines came into mind. Then later a couple of hours of re-polishing and adding a couple of lines to balance. Sometimes things come easily - sometimes things come hard; this was one of the easy ones.