POETRY

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Here's a selection of my poems for FEBRUARY

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A February Day - Roland Hilder

AN EARLY SPRING And this is how sly Winter sets his trap : with milder days, tricked Spring to wake and stir, his low sun sparking in the heart of flowers and tender buds are breaking out of time. Birds greet warming days with early singing, the blackthorn hedge is coming into bloom — so, could it be that Spring’s arrived too early, that Winter’s lion will roar in storms to come? No turning back, the green fuse drives the flower — though Winter’s frost will flatten daffodils and winds turn early blossom to confetti — Spring’s quiddity will see new life prevail.

SPRING SONG This Winter's broken, cold winds cease now mocking blackthorn mimics snow and in young sun a tame cat prowls attracted by grey mouse's song. The hares have gone, their last dance done; the rookery so full of noise — bright celandines shine from each verge a quiet greenness fills the land. New leaves and flowers, more birds in pairs, fresh signs of Spring are everywhere, but for these dunnocks in this hedge the cuckoo calls through dooms of love.

FROM A WINDOW As winter slowly lost its grip, at dusk each day, from ivied tree, he sang of spring and of his love to all the listening robin world. As I wash dishes at the sink, my window frames a tender scene — a female robin, round with eggs, waits patiently for his return. Their courtship started with his song and now he brings her gifts of seed beneath their hidden mossy nest in ivied tree where he still sings. When apple blossom fills that tree I'll look out for this robin's young — so speckled, like young nightingales — and watch him feed them one by one.

DAFFODILS The house stood on a lovely spot with valley views across the stream a place that he named Camelot. It was decrepit, tumbledown – a sure sign of the owner’s age – yet every year the garden bloomed. After the old man moved away the gates were chained, house boarded up, so brambles thrived and nettles grew. Last autumn, heavy plant moved in to knock down walls and clear the site – thin rubble where the house had been. This spring, while horses grazed close by, daffodils bloom where old man toiled… and proves old gardens never die.
Celebrating our Diamond Wedding! 60 Years!

DIAMOND WEDDING We swore our love, Both you and I, for ever and a day; I promised you enduring love — True love, you promised me. Forever seemed a long, long time But how those years have flown — Our first kiss seems a fevered dream, A happy time ago... Thank you for everything and all those precious memories, *Happy Anniversary, Lynn!*

WINTER to SPRING (a Haiku sequence). Out of the darkness day breaks with an orange flame burning through blackthorn. The oak glows orange, clouds beyond tinged salmon pink — a red sun rises. An uneasy truce : day breaks with red in its eye – it’ll not stay dry. Another grey day. choose a word for English rain? — Unsympathetic. Spring is put on hold, sun gleams from icy puddles – winter’s frosty breath. Mist fills the valley, sunrise brings the Midas touch : gilding everything. Beyond the churchyard, secret as a night of snow, snowdrops claim the copse. Brilliant low sun mirrored by the flooded road — blinded by the light. Radiant sunset : blood-orange sun slips away, leaves an amber sky. A giant full moon shines white light on frosty air, gardens glint like snow.

BLACKTHORN WEDDING It could’ve been like any bright Spring day: in the border, daffodils and snowdrops, birds are feeding, even a timid jay’s come to our garden from the distant copse. But what is this? Confetti on the path to my front door – a wedding party here? White dots the lawn, also glazes bird bath — to sleepy eyes it all seems very queer… Then penny drops – not confetti, petals from the old blackthorn, blown across the lane in night time’s gale windblown petals settled stuck onto path by rain as if ingrained. So, in the night the wind and tree were wed, and, in their dance, blackthorn petals spread.