In sunshine and in rain
I wrote this sonnet after Storm Doris in February 2017.
In Sunshine and in Rain
she’s down, all mud, brown leaves and tears,
on others private, huddled in the mist.
In summer rain she’s zany, fun, appears
to flirt, spins, laughs. Refuses to be kissed.
Her temper blazes when the wind is high,
I flinch at every crash, move plants indoors.
Next day she offers crocuses while I
stand silent by the flattened hellebores.
But when the purple buddleia’s in my eyes
she conjures shadow-pools where clover sings
and in the cool green depths the butterflies
alight on submerged leaves, splash charcoal wings.
Sun-kissed, caressed, entranced, I’m lost. And she’s
a goddess. I fill jam jars with sweet peas.
(from On the Wing, Offa's Press 2018)