Hungerford West, Spring

Hungerford West, Spring sonnet poems

I travelled back a mile by the canal
in sunshine, sky so fresh that early hour
was nourishment and I gulped-down the air.
Those path-side plants are nearly at their full,
I watched a bristling, bulbous stem unroll,
blue dragonflies, butterfly everywhere
bees in tall fragrant meadowsweet now bear
their sticky loads as flowering miles unfurl.

Here were the first green fruit, cherries, apples;
sycamores bunch brown-spotted keys, I led,
to my last bridge – how quick the season is –
thoughts of a day that caught me unprepared,
slow to return in case this was the year’s best,
to be no other and it was not shared.

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Dominic James

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Having moved along from prose I have been writing poems for a few years now, trying different forms - gaining and failing (see Sonnets) - trying to match mind and soul on the page: it was never going to be easy. The best writing is generally poetry, the worst too. So, we work on it.
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Welcome to HoP @dominic-james and such a treat for the readers, the imagery of your words bring the countryside and nature in all its glory alive..A feast for the senses..Wonderful writing!


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