Showing posts with label Spring. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Spring. Show all posts

DEAR MARCH - COME IN - by Emily Dickinson



DEAR MARCH - COME IN 

by Emily Dickinson, 1830 - 1886


Dear March - Come in -
How glad I am -
I hoped for you before -
Put down your Hat -
You must have walked -
How out of Breath you are -
Dear March, how are you, and the Rest -
Did you leave Nature well -
Oh March, Come right upstairs with me -
I have so much to tell -

I got your Letter, and the Birds -
The Maples never knew that you were coming -
I declare - how Red their Faces grew -         
But March, forgive me -
And all those Hills you left for me to Hue -
There was no Purple suitable -
You took it all with you -         
  
Who knocks? That April -
Lock the Door -
I will not be pursued -
He stayed away a Year to call
When I am occupied -         
But trifles look so trivial
As soon as you have come
That blame is just as dear as Praise
And Praise as mere as Blame -





THESE I, SINGING IN SPRING - by Walt Whitman



 

THESE I, SINGING IN SPRING 


by  Walt Whitman
(from Leaves of Grass, first published in 1860 edition)



These, I, singing in spring, collect for lovers,
(For who but I should understand lovers, and all their sorrow and joy?
And who but I should be the poet of comrades?)
Collecting, I traverse the garden, the world�but soon I pass the gates,
Now along the pond-side�now wading in a little, fearing not the wet,
Now by the post-and-rail fences, where the old stones thrown there, pick�d from the fields, have accumulated,
Wild-flowers and vines and weeds come up through the stones, and partly cover them�
Beyond these I pass,
Far, far in the forest, before I think where I go,
Solitary, smelling the earthy smell, stopping now and then in the silence,
Alone I had thought�yet soon a silent troop gathers around me,
Some walk by my side, and some behind, and some embrace my arms or neck,
They, the spirits of friends, dead or alive�thicker they come, a great crowd, and I in the middle,
Collecting, dispensing, singing in spring, there I wander with them,
Plucking something for tokens�tossing toward whoever is near me;
Here! lilac, with a branch of pine,
Here out of my pocket, some moss which I pull�d off a live-oak in Florida, as it hung trailing down,
Here, some pinks and laurel leaves, and a handful of sage,
And here what I now draw from the water, wading in the pond-side,
(O here I last saw him that tenderly loves me�and returns again, never to separate from me,
And this, O this shall henceforth be the token of comrades�this Calamus-root shall,
Interchange it, youths, with each other! Let none render it back!)
And twigs of maple, and a bunch of wild orange, and chestnut,
And stems of currants, and plum-blows, and the aromatic cedar:
These, I, compass�d around by a thick cloud of spirits,
Wandering, point to, or touch as I pass, or throw them loosely from me,
Indicating to each one what he shall have�giving something to each;
But what I drew from the water by the pond-side, that I reserve,
I will give of it�but only to them that love, as I myself am capable of loving. 



 
Nata Vi


LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING - by William Wordsworth (1798)




LINES WRITTEN IN EARLY SPRING 

William Wordsworth (1798)


I heard a thousand blended notes,
While in a grove I sate reclined,
In that sweet mood when pleasant thoughts
Bring sad thoughts to the mind.

To her fair works did Nature link
The human soul that through me ran;
And much it grieved my heart to think
What man has made of man.

Through primrose tufts, in that green bower,
The periwinkle trailed its wreaths;
And �tis my faith that every flower
Enjoys the air it breathes.

The birds around me hopped and played,
Their thoughts I cannot measure:-
But the least motion which they made
It seemed a thrill of pleasure.

The budding twigs spread out their fan,
To catch the breezy air;
And I must think, do all I can,
That there was pleasure there.

If this belief from heaven be sent,
If such be Nature�s holy plan,
Have I not reason to lament
What man has made of man ?


 

THE FIRST BUDDING OF SPRING - by � Michael Lechner





THE  FIRST BUDDING  OF  SPRING 

by  � Michael Lechner


Rain
pounds
the pavement

Gray on gray
are all
the colors I see

I try not
to despair
the pall
of Winter

In time this
monochrome
pallet will fade
away

So here
 I sit
in quiet
optimism

Waiting
for the first
budding
of Spring







SPRING THE SEASON OF JOY - by � Rahat Sandhu



SPRING THE SEASON OF JOY


by  � Rahat Sandhu



The spring is here and the sun is bright,
Everyone is playful they are not having anyone's fright.
I could see the little birds swaying their wings,
I could hear the pretty flowers sing.
The green leaves that are dancing in the air,
Are fearless from everyone present here.
Tip! tip! tip! the water falls,
Sweep! sweep! sweep! the caterpillar crawls.
And when the playful squirrels run,
They seem that they are having so much fun.
As the small kids are swinging high,
Their rosy pink cheeks get shy.
Jumping, jumping come the rabbits,
I really praise their lovely habits.
As they play with their long ears,
Everyone forgets their cries and tears.
But lets wait for the butterflies,
Who keep on flying in the endless skies.
But now mam taps on the door,
And it's the time to go indoor.
I'm always eager for the spring to come,
Because it brings along so much fun.







SONG FOR AN OLD-FASHIONED APRIL - by � Judith Chiorazzi




SONG FOR AN OLD-FASHIONED APRIL 

by � Judith Chiorazzi



April, April, how do I know
whether thou be friend or foe ?
Give me sunlight, give me breath,
Give me belief there is no death.

How I wonder, my giver of the flower
Whether I'll have staying power;
To wage this battle through thick and thin
To know my love will come back again...

Tell me April, who is my love,
The red robin or the cooing dove ?
How can a messenger seem so still
While streams overflow with winter's swill ?

Give me love or give me power;
I'll take some of both
And contemplate the flower......



 
Nata Vi



IT MUST BE SPRING - by � May Fenn




IT MUST BE SPRING 

by � May Fenn 



Hush, Can you hear it?
The rustling in the grass,
Bringing you the welcome news
Winter's day is past.
Soft, Can you feel it?
The warm caressing breeze,
Telling you the sticky buds
Are bursting on the trees.
Look, Can you see them?
The primrose in the lane,
Now you must believe it -
Spring is here again.



 
Nata Vi


SPRINGTIME ~ Author Unknown ~


Image result for springtime
SPRINGTIME 

~ Author Unknown ~

Springtime, springtime, how do you do
Springtime, springtime, how do you do
Springtime, springtime, how do you do
Flowers, sunshine are part of you.
Springtime colors are everywhere�
Bright and cheerful colors too.
Springtime animals everywhere�
Birds, bees, and butterflies too.
Blossoms, buds, and greenery too�
Springtime, springtime, glad to see you.

La@Perla





SPRING - by Barbara R Johnson


 

SPRING 

 by Barbara R Johnson 

Wondrously February withdraws to
warm March with a golden glow
from Spring�s shining sun sent
down to lead the way
for April�s soothing showers
soon to bring fragrant flowers
and dance on May�s blossoming bounty.


 
Na


AS THE SPRING WIND BLOWS - by Moon Taejun - Translated by Sophie Bowman



 

AS THE SPRING WIND BLOWS

 by Moon Taejun 

Translated by Sophie Bowman
 


As the spring wind blows

ripples smile

 

and as the spring wind blows

from a cave a snake emerges

 

and as the spring wind blows

the base-stone is loosened

 

and as the spring wind blows

incurred debts are repaid

new debts made

 

and as the spring wind blows

ghosts loiter

 

and as the spring wind blows

starlight moving away

from the world�s two green eyes.


F