The colours are coming

Distant pheasant

Proximal, sound from every tree

Blackbird looped trill and titter

Chippling chip and corkscrew chatter haha

Trill introduced comic tonal whistle

Beak acrobatics too fast for my brain

 

The colours are coming.

Allium hordes scuffling with tufted purple crew cuts

And Nectaroscordum unsheathing upturned chocolate crowns

Blues, white and piercing paeony pink

leaking pools of intense lemon Euphorbia

 

Shuttlecock ferns stretch furry coils like feathered ladders

Reaching for mossy trunks

The trees are leaved now

Though some still half naked

The apples in underwear, pink and white

Slowly dressing in light tender greens

 

On the secret side, in the old fishponds

A submarine pheasant nods through the deepening grass

Frothing with buttercups and cow parsley

And brave roses peep against the warm walls


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