Poem, Poetry

Fledge – two poems

Today we celebrate the recent Maytree release, Fledge by Jonathan Humble.

The collection of poems under the title ‘Fledge’ begins with a reflection on how a wild urban childhood and encounters with nature in adolescence have resonated in adult life. There is a strong nature theme running through the poems including a curlew with a grudge, a sceptical mouse, the perils of being a lovelorn worm, a spider with a death-wish, the wonderfulness of trees and a trainee starling with a dilemma. The work also deals with darker issues in poems such as Leveret, Then It Rains, Still Life and Forty Years On …

A wonderfully entertaining and accessible debut.

With stunning cover artwork by South Yorkshire based artist Suzi Thompson, Fledge is another stunning debut that deserves some space on your poetry shelves.

Fledge is available direct from Jonathan or from the new and improved Maytree online shop – https://maytreepress.bigcartel.com/product/fledge-by-jonathan-humble

Dandelion Sun

A child’s sun finds a dream in young eyes.
In blinks of dandelion eclipses, 
refracted light reflects on retinas 
holding warmth in ragged leaves 
below a flower standing up and out.
Ryegrass and foxtail for company,
a golden head of petals, 
swaying and slight, 
is there and gone and there again.

The wings of friends unfold to test the air
with thoughts aloft in stretching skies,
days that lift and soar with matchless views.
They seek what hawks perceive as truth 
yet still count the faces that look familiar.

And dipping hands in search of clues, 
a box of sights, 
of scent and sound,
they choose a shade and wear a skin, 
fit in and lose themselves as one of many. 

But this child blinks dandelion eclipses;
hawkbit tinctures bathing open eyes
with picture sun now placed behind an ear 
while looking up and out.

A trust in truth is not weighed as cost
and light in ragged leaves endures. 
Though slight, 
as scythes descend and sweep the dream,
it will not fail at dusk.

Invitation To Move On

I am small in the sea, pushed around 
by waves that care not for any grain of sand
or stuff that floats in a broken head.

Arms held wide and high, that reach and cling
like a child to a parent when things get rough,
when routines fail and muscles waste. 

I hesitate, recoil, cower; skin so thin 
these cold water blades could spill these guts 
for waiting gulls and wash away this name.

I am caught like the Sun, falling 
and hoping to rise again, the horizon watched 
from a base of arched feet, soft soles and toes 

exposed to the hidden sharpness of shadows. 
And though these whispered sea breezes 
with caresses would show the way, 

for that bastard time waits not for me,
until I learn to surrender, immerse this body, 
allow these legs to float and lay back this head, 

could I ever take in the whole of the sky?

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