Spring Chestnut Candles


Walking home after a shower of rain

Drops still fall from a fresh-dressed chestnut tree,

Below the paving stones glow and shine

Reflecting each candle blossom to me.

The city spring season, I smell its green,

See harts tongue clinging to the granite wall,

Seven decades of it in all I’ve seen,

And like the fern I’m still here after all.

With every breath that I breathe in and out,

My veins sing songs of joy and banish fears

Songs that bring in Spring with a happy shout

In the place that I have lived for fifty years.

And I walk on the sun on Yorkshire stone

Feeling the warmth and new life return.

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© 2018 James Morgan Nash - Writer and Poet - Leeds, West Yorkshire, United Kingdom - james@jamesnash.co.uk 

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