Walled Garden, Hawkwood
A beautiful, seasonal poem from Awen author Kevan Manwaring. Do click through and read the whole thing.
So soon now the midsummer builds like a migraine, a pressure in the head. The sun rucks the sky, stuns us into submission.
Drunken bees tumble dark poppy heads ~ with their forgetful secrets. Under the nets the strawberries quietly bloom to fullness.
How sweet the seed that from the bitter earth erupts, clamouring for the spell of light and the kiss of rain.
Each thorn snags a bud of dew, sap swims up the hidden rivers of roots and stream.
Green blood pulses and pushes life up and out with a broken cry of yes. And the trees nurse us asleepwake
with their beards of birds.
14 June 2017