YOUNG APRIL MONTH

The pregnant blooms
Of the young April month
Laden and bursting forth
Plump, pink upon pink
‘Tis the full lipped smile of God
Against the flush of a blue sky.

I travel further into the hedgerows
Deeper, deeper, deeper within
And find myself smeared
By dollops of mustard yellow flowers
Oozing out of the spinach green
Of England’s velvety landscape.

Behold! What a sight
That despaired me so
To cease my journey weary
And marvel at this array.

I stand in wonderment
And wish to kiss
the brush
Of the one who painted
The gush
of colour before me.

The fusion, the mess, so prettily applied
To stun and to maim, any passer-by
Who painted England in green and yellow?
It’s heaven brought down for the mortal eye.

© Meena Tah 2013