Thinking of Easter, and of Eostre –the old goddess of spring and fertility who gave the celebration her name–along came another spring poem. I've called it “April in England” and to leave this one open to everyone.

(Sorry patrons, but I'll have a new exclusive for you next week).

Enjoy, all. And happy Easter. It's my favorite time of the year, and this year it coincides with my birthday.

As they say in Ireland, Beannachtaí na Cásca ort! (May the blessings of Easter be on you).

April in England
Love wakes with the season,
as we open our arms to welcome
you, spring, rolling in again
to our patch of place,
like an old friend, or family member,
back with us for a time.

Oh please stay as long as you can,
easing the sea, as you do,
warming the earth,
lifting the sky into the blue beyond.

So much remembering resides in
a greening meadow,
a stream brightening to crystal,
a shaded grove screening
a circle of daffodils dancing
under the trees.

All thanks to you, for coming
for another year, bearing
your passion and promise,
igniting our resurrections,
forgiving our sins,
entering our chambers,
scattering your seed.