Category Archives: garden
It is April 30th and I have made an attempt to publish a poem every day throughout this Poetry Month – didn’t quite manage it! This one is a delight to me. Tony Harrison was born on this day in 1937 and his poem celebrates his Father who was adept at icing Wedding cakes but didn’t seem to mind that his work was ephemeral, destroyed in the celebration of a marriage. I love how Tony Harrison relates the ephemerality of the iced cake to the short life of the sandcastle built by him and his Dad as the tide comes in. I love the salt water of the sea tied up with the salt of his tears as he both remembers and mourns his Father.
The Icing Hand
That they lasted only till the next high tide
bothered me, not him whose labour was to make
sugar lattices demolished when the bride,
with help from her groom’s hot hand, first cut the cake.
His icing hand, gritty with sandy grains, guides
my pen when I try shaping memories of him
and his eyes scan with mine the rising tides
neither father nor his son could hope to swim.
His eyes stayed dry while I, the kid, would weep
to watch the castle that had taken us all day
to build and deck decay, one wave-surge sweep
our winkle-stuccoed edifice away.
Remembrance like ice cake crumbs in the throat,
remembrance like wind-blown Blackpool brine
overfills the poem’s shallow moat
and first, ebbing, salts, then, flowing, floods this line.
We had a fox in the back field today. The photo is on maximum zoom and isn’t very clear but gives you an idea of what we were watching for about twenty minutes.
I collected a tiny posy of Spring flowers today for my lovely little pottery container sent to me by our lovely friend, P.
The Clematis in the front garden is beautiful.
We have a friend staying for a few days and we all walked down to the Churchyard to take photos of four special gravestones which are to be part of the performance 18th-21st May. They are each to be marked by ribbons and the four young women being remembered will be wearing the same colour of ribbon on their costume.
Our Tulip border is looking gorgeous, just one rogue red one among the pale pink and white ones. The purple ones are only just starting to bloom and the blue Muscari are finishing off. I do love Spring flowers.
It has been a glorious day today and the first where we could sit out quite late with a glass of wine and watch the sun go down. It is beginning to feel like the beginning of Summer! Our friend, Shelagh, tell us it is snowing again in Vermont!
After singing again today, I went for a solo walk in Burncoose Nursery Gardens. I love the feeling of personal peace I get in there with nothing but the beauty and the scent of the flowers, varieties of bird song and the chance to think. The magnolias have just about finished but the Rhododendrons are now in flower and gorgeous.
Most of the Daffodils have gone over too as the Bluebells start to bloom but these few caught my eye and reminded me of line in a poem, ‘the yolk coloured mouthpieces’ – just what these blooms have. Below is the whole poem by May Swenson.
Daffodils – May Swenson
in a row in the garden
shrill with light.
brings earliest models out
each April the same,
naïve and classical.
Look into the yolk-
alert with echoes.
Say hello to time.