By: ailsaandlisa

May 30 2014


Category: poem


Permanent residents relax and bloom:
the druid-white blackthorn; the spiky gorse
with blooms like English butter; the bluebells, intense
as a Viking’s eyes. This is their favourite season.

Meanwhile robins, skylarks and buzzards, wrens,
ravens, blue tits and dunnocks are joined by visitors
from warmer parts: the redstart, chiffchaff, willow warbler,
pied flycatcher, bringing their songs to the soundscape.

We, two-legged, unwinged, drive up in droves
to celebrate 50 years of Buxton Mountain Rescue;
to try climbing, abseiling, archery; to make our dogs behave;
to set out, strong-booted, bag a brace of Cheshire peaks.

There is sunshine here, and wind, and rain.
And space for all of this.


The fifth poem written by Ailsa Holland as Tegg’s Nose Poet in Residence. Photo by Lisa Williams.


2 comments on “May”

  1. Gorgeous. Gave such a fresh sense of the season and place

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