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