Lone Hawthorn On The Moor
For you are ancient and withstand terrible weathers.
For you make a dark shape in winter, carry a nest.
For I saw you sheathed in frozen snow, your berries hoar.
For you grow on the crest of a slope.
For you are potent, with medicinal properties.
Wands made from you hold great power.
For in spring you are covered in white blossom.
For you are the May tree and shake confetti on the girls,
who dance around your trunk.
For you are most erotic and bless love and fertility.
For you teem with life, insects that fly and crawl, lichen
and every kind of bird wants to shelter in your branches.
For you fill with the hum of bees.
For you must never be broken, nor taken home,
For you are hope, which remains wild.
For you have thorns and red berries, which imbue meaning,
though children make itching powder, babies are fed your syrup.
For you offer protection.
For you are grizzled and grow low to the ground.
* this poem is in my new book Hearth which is available from me or http://www.culturedllama.co.uk/
it’s time for the next monthly edition of Uncut Poets at the Phoenix Arts Centre, Gandy St, Exeter on April 26 at 7.30pm. Mixing memory and desire will be their two guest poets, Roselle Angwin and Rose Cook.
Roselle’s new book from Pindrop Press, A Trick Of The Light, is a luminous, reflective account of the history, landscapes and special atmosphere of the island of Iona, where she leads annual writing retreats.
Rose’s latest collection Hearth, from Cultured Llama, showcases her characteristic mix of lightness of touch and clarity of vision, dealing with the changes, the losses and gains that age brings, as well as the beauty and revelations of the natural world.
The evening in the Phoenix Workshop will be presented by Alasdair Paterson and a mystery co-presenter. Admission £5 (£3 for open mic and concessions). Lilacs bred out of the dead earth optional.
May something small, green and beautiful grow
in your hearts
Moon for Our Daughters by Annie Finch
Moon that is linking our daughters’
Choices, and still more beginnings,
Threaded alive with our shadows,
These are our bodies’ own voices,
Powers of each of our bodies,
Threading, unbroken, begetting
Flowers from each of our bodies.
These are our spiraling borders
Carrying on your beginnings,
Chaining through shadows to daughters,
Moving beyond our beginnings,
Moon of our daughters, and mothers.
photo Rose Cook