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Candlemas
By David Blackburn
Spread out, through coppiced hazel nut
By the old woodsman’s summer hut,
Where springtime’s children used to play
And, for their queen, cut knots of May,
Underneath winter’s bare Beech tree
Growing low down, you may just see
February fair-maids pearl white,
Translucent in the full moon’s light.
An ancient plant, neglected now,
Yet once cropped from below the bough,
Packed off for sale in Ivy leaves
Bunched large, for those who would believe,
Those snowdrop posies, green and white,
At Candle mass were pure delight.
First published in “Poetry from Pappy’s Shed” by the author in autumn 2008 to raise money for Water Aid.
Only available in local studies collections from Northampton libraries