AT SEASONS CHANGE

After a long drive and a short walk on the Ashridge Estate I ended feeling cold and poetic. I wrote the Spring part last year but I felt the need to capture the changes that clung in the cold and crept out with the sunlight.  I drove to Great Gaddeston, Little Gaddeston and Gaddeston Row - that was enough Gaddestons for me ;) Then we walked and hurried home. SEASON'S CHANGE

Winter hardens in glittered bite;
Crisps, in sharp snaps, bladed dew;

Breathes on netted, silk-draped, bushes.

Winter does not warm to daylight’s lowered rays.

Winter rawness strains by cracks;

Pales while drifting blankets smooth;

Winter’s un-dyed skeletal mask deceives and smothers.   

Spring shoots from grey ground,

Darts in coy callings: tree to tree,

Peaks on spindled fingers seeking light:

Spring does not rush its great reveal, it revels in slow-rising sap.

Spring wafts irritating clouds,

Prances to new life’s dance,

Blushes while blossoms robe:

Spring, plush with lush life, swells and over-all flows.

The day felt like one season and in the sunlight, and from the car's rose-tinted interior, it masqueraded as the other..

Don't you love how words combine with internal rhythms?

Two answers are perfectly possible ;)