The first day came from the bitter north
Was there ever so cold a Spring?
But the sun shone out for an hour at noon,
And we heard the cuckoo sing!

The next day woke with a cheerless blast
And a sky that was grey with snow.
But we heard the corncrake tune his pipe
In the meadow down below!

The third day sobbed with a dismal rain,
The very trees looked numb,
But the swallows arrived on the old roof-tree.
And we knew that the summer would come!

(source: by ‘Cushag’ (Josephine Kermode)’ photo, photographer unknown)

Bernadette Weyde

Bernadette Weyde

I'm a web designer, amateur historian and keen gardener and I enjoy bringing Manx history, folklore and poetry to a modern audience.

Tags assigned to this article:
josephine kermodepoetry

Related Articles

The Touch

We who have heard the fairies’ laughter peeling Through dim-lit hollows in the lonely hills, Have seen pale shadows through

The Gaffer Remembers with his Nose

The smell of wormwood takes me back a bit, For in July an’ Augus’ years ago I used to see


Water is round about us from our birth, Our heritage a strip of windy land Among wild seas; a word

No comments

Write a comment
No Comments Yet! You can be first to comment this post!

Write a Comment

Your e-mail address will not be published.
Required fields are marked*