The gleam of the celandine

When the sun struck the hedgerow bank
Sprinkling ‘tween hosts of rainy days
The sun-chrome flowers turned towards
In the brightest of bright arrays

The earliest of all spring flowers
Now jostles with the pale primrose
Softly limpid in pastel shades
While between them the new grass grows

Eight waxen yellow petals furl
Into themselves beneath grey clouds
Yet rain however hard it falls
Still they stand unbowed upright proud

A greater relative comes and goes
With the swallow the chelidon
But it is the lesser that gladdens
My heart and will not see mown

Nature renews herself each year
Turning to face it once again
Perhaps this year will be diff’rent
But I fear it’s all in vain

The strimmer and the mowing machine
Heed not the beauty in their path
It’s incumbent upon the man
Who cannot see his lack of craft

© RM Meyer
Winswell Water, March 2020