To mark World Poetry Day, here’s Edward Thomas writing about the transition from Winter to Spring


But these things also are Spring’s

But these things also are Spring’s –

On banks by the roadside the grass

Long-dead that is greyer now

Than all the Winter it was;


The shell of a little snail bleached

In the grass; chip of flint, and mite

Of chalk; and the small birds’ dung

In splashes of purest white:


All the white things a man mistakes

For earliest violets

Who seeks through Winter’s ruins

Something to pay Winter’s debts,


While the North blows, and starling flocks

By chattering on and on

Keep their spirits up in the mist,

And Spring’s here, Winter’s not gone


Thomas wrote this in March 2015 about what can be a confusing time of the year as we have seen once again in 2018.  This was a few months before he enlisted in the Artist’s Rifles to fight in the First World War.

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