On A Bright Morning

On a bright morning, when

sun is dew drinking,

see her make her way along the hedge;

plucking hawthorn buds to shake

the yellowhammer from its rest;

gathering clotted wool that tangles

in the spine of blackthorn.

She winds the spiders’ threads,

sends them spinning on the breeze.


On a bright morning, when

sun is cloud combing,

see her work through winter teasels,

charming the goldfinch flock;

setting the air alive with song;

twisting honeysuckle with its

moth-brushed scent.

She curls the caterpillars and

gives them power to fly.


On a bright morning, when

moon is just resting,

see her – daughter of weaver, word spinner,

willow-binder and seed-sower,

singer of sky song, wild-walker,

hazel-hunter and mole-minder.

She shakes the truth from flowers

draws stories out of the rocks.

She dreams the future and remembers the past.


First published in Earthlines, Issue 6, August 2013

Poetry & Prose