Sunday, 17 March 2013

My weather-related desires


Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Admittedly, we don't spend much time thinking about St. Patrick's Day here in England, rather unlike the Americans and, of course, the Irish. But the day is still something to look forward to because it arrives at the tail-end of winter, when spring begins to surface.

Although, that doesn't seem to be happening this year.

One of the year's events I look forward to the most is the hatching of daffodils. They should be out by now, but instead the unseasonably freezing weather is keeping them inside their buds. And now, as I type, it's snowing heavily outside and coating any spring colour in a disagreeable blanket of white.

Still, one of the advantages of being a writer is the ability to create the world you wish to see.

This is something I took advantage of for my latest university assignment, for which we were asked to construct a poem. After a few experiments using different subjects, I found the perfect source of inspiration: my back garden and the craving for more colourful ground. My poem was also somewhat inspired by Valerie Bloom's Two Seasons.

I ended up receiving my best university grade yet; something I'm very proud of because I never thought I'd be able to write decent poetry! And now I feel it's the right time to share some of my own work here.

So, here's the poem. Hope you enjoy!

Sun and Garden
Sunlight frames the garden’s grassy
chest, as shadows paint a kaleidoscope
of bare limbs horizontally,
amongst tumbled leaves of summer’s hope.
Hope that leaves during winter’s stay,
emeralds emaciated and withered,
skeletal limbs begging the sky
and craving warmth that hasn’t dared
stretch past seasonal dictation.
The sun feels silenced and beaten.

For five months, plastic windmills spin
orange and red amongst biting breeze,
garden’s only incline within. 
But, yellow heads soon peer over leaves,
march upward slowly, hope carried
in every surprising spurt, and mouth
eventually appears, opened
wide. The stout sun recognises how
much it resembles this flower,
and beams because it is beating winter’s power.

Now reborn with resolute might,
branching buds join the awakening
prosperously in pink and white
d├ęcor for cherry trees. Heartening
lavender’s calm scent embraces
the gentle atmosphere, and jazzy 
sparrows sing and sway in graces,
for sake of courtship’s clear revelry.
So, it appears to a once defeated sun:
cold is vanishing, spring has come.

As pageants grow over garden,
cherry’s blossom fades, but emeralds
become replenished where fallen
limbs begged in frost. Roses are abled
back to point, standing firmer
with defensive warmth, daring insects
closer using crimson glamour.
And thus, as sun and garden collect
for high solstice, life in full merriment,
summer bustles earnest and elegant.