Yes, February may be viewed as the start of spring in some cultures. And, yes, I am writing this post as snow blows in over the North Downs on a below-zero wind. Still, the thought of warmer days and brighter light keeps the winter blues at bay, even so long before the changing of the clocks. Hence this little poem.

Lemon Light                                                           

Day comes up full of willow buds

Yellow as yellowhammers

And dusts the path with daffodils,

With flaring saffron crocuses.


Between long cirrus clouds, citrus light shakes out

The splash & flash of goldfinch wings.


An early brimstone butterfly ascends

Creamy yellow on skeins of invisible updraft:

Away, it lifts away, drifts away

Over banks brimming with primroses.


And now on the morning of the springing clocks,

Here in this first week of a northern spring,


The flame has turned,

Sun’s fire has burned

From winter’s crimson plum

To spring’s bright lemon light.


© Lizzie Ballagher