Poem Of The Month: April
Every year I am blown away by Spring, this is not news, most of us probably are, but like many artists I grapple with what it feels like and what it means every single time. This sonnet was inspired by seeing a deer from a train as I was travelling through beautiful East Yorkshire countryside, while the picture was taken at Danes Dyke just outside Bridlington a week or so afterwards.
The world has been washed and hung out to dry,
Colours are muted but clean, birds sing loud
And above me are clouds and sun, the palest sky.
Spring shakes his budding head; he is proud
Of the greening grass, the early flowers.
He strides through the fields, where hare show no fear
Caught up in their spiral dancing, the showers
Have fled, and fresh sunshine established here.
He snuffs at the air, and likes what he finds,
The promise of increasing light, the scouring breeze,
He’s off to the woods, does not look behind.
His horned head is lost among the trees.
And I celebrate what he has to bring
With his cloven-footed swaggering.
©James Nash 2017