Ashes Poetry

All Edgbaston

All Edgbaston glistens in stillness
rich twitch’d thick leav’d tree-tops rhythm the breeze
that doves fletch, fetch, stitch and stretch to the skies
beneath a bustard eye below cumulus.
Squawk’d calls, claps, smatters snatch passages in time,
balls and bats enchained to their sovereign rest
that plays out summer fields’ palimpsest:
daze to days call over without rhyme
to succour fulfilment near oblivion,
where wintry fever wrinkles grain and skin
into a wreath of smiles and unforc’d grins
at the long slow easy wait twixt seasons.
For just this by our ladies’ leave and bless
All Edgbaston glistens in stillness.