Spring has come when you can put your foot on three daisies.
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It is not spring until you can plant your foot upon twelve daisies.
Daisies All Over My Body
let daisies rain on
me and let all the daisies
cover my face my body
let daisies crown my head
my hair, my nose, let there
be daisies everywhere
inside, outside me
i am in love.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Wild Asters
In the spring I asked the daisies
If his words were true,
And the clever, clear-eyed daisies
Always knew.
Now the fields are brown and barren,
Bitter autumn blows,
And of all the stupid asters
Not one knows.
poem by Sara Teasdale
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Framing a spurt of Spring
the day is baroque
with daisies' faces
lifted to the sun
my feet lift and knock
on spring's lenient ground
where tortoises' dance
lead them to drink from proud
prickly pear's leaf
and rocks are small
under the yellow rays
of the round clock
the slow spring day
is ticking and saying
the day is baroque
and colour licks
an orange shock
for autumn's mind
left summer behind
in green thorny itch
and I am treading
an interesting quest
for prickly pear's nest
in a field of daisies
and winter's leaking ills
in the splendor of spring
New Spring
Spring!
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring! How wonderful is the
Spring! How majestic is the
Spring! How fantastic is the
Spring! How tantalizing is the
Spring! How glorious is the
Spring! How melodious is the
Spring! How joyful is the
Spring! How breathtaking is the
Spring! How uplifting the
Spring! How happy is the
Spring! How magnificent is the
Spring! How colorful is the
Spring! How tasteful is the
Spring! How memorable was the
Spring! How flavorful is the
Spring! How aromic is the
Spring! How sweet is
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring!
poem by Mario Saboundjian
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Who Hath Despised The Day Of Small Things?
As violets so be I recluse and sweet,
Cheerful as daisies unaccounted rare,
Still sunward-gazing from a lowly seat,
Still sweetening wintry air.
While half-awakened Spring lags incomplete,
While lofty forest trees tower bleak and bare,
Daisies and violets own remotest heat
And bloom and make them fair.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Field Of Yellow Daisies
We met in a field of yellow daisies
Wild and young and free
And she picked a bouquet for me
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I...she'd go away..yeah
But they didn't say why
Have you ever been in a field of yellow daisies
Where the air is warm, pure and sweet
Just as if the world is at your feet
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I
She'd go away.....yeah
But they didn't say why
I may fail like petals from a daisy
But for her love I'll always yearn
Each year when yellow daisies return
She loved me...she loved me not
The daisies didn't lie
They knew better than I
She'd go away.....yeahhhh
But they didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why
They didn't say why.........
song performed by by Tom Jones
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Two Distant Worlds
who does not like to put some
yellow daisies on your black glossy hair?
you become so beautiful with a chain of yellow
daisies in your hair
where i can possibly touch them and caress them
and how would you know that this is more than just putting a chain of
daisies in your black hair?
you shall never know and that is good enough for me
for i am the simplest man that puts those chain of yellow daisies in your hair
no prince charming for you, nothing special
just another common friend putting those usual yellow daisies in your hair
when our hands touch by accident
how would you know that i have become a forest burning?
this burning fire that is softly killing me
how would you know? your world is open and mine is closed.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Mother-Daughter Love
Among the daisies
sat the child,
looking so ever
meek and mild.
Mother sat down
by the child,
looked at her daughter
and sweetly smiled.
Picking the daisies
with the child,
from those gathered
a chain was stylized.
Around the neck
of the child,
she placed the chain
of daisies wild.
Touching the daisies
the deaf child,
looked at her mother
and sweetly smiled.
poem by Noline A.V. Johnson
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A September Day
A thing of such great beauty to behold
The wattles resplendent in their blooms of gold
The first week of September and Spring is in the air
And in the green park daisies bloom everywhere,
On a day like this 'tis good to be alive
To start your car and go off on a drive
So great to live to see another Spring
To hear the nesting wild birds chirp and sing,
Were i a poet i would write a simple lay
For to celebrate this beautiful Spring day
To celebrate the beauty i can see
Where the Goddess of Spring has spread her greenery
And the wattles laden in their golden flowers
Look resplendent in these mild September hours.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Straw Foot
I guess you didnt hear me
When I told you for the first time
Well dont you worry
It wont be the last
All I need a floorboard
An a wooden shoe
Step aside an let my lady through
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Up an back around
See the high priest
He took my place
When the judge looks to me
He saw his sons face
Not gonna join you in
Your tower of babble, boy
Tired o that talkin
Im sick o that noise
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Im not alone
An looks can be deceivin
When we get down to it
Youre talkin when you
Should be leavin
Ive been to nebraska
It reminded me of spain
All the questions loaded
All my answers same
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hay foot, straw foot
Coverin ground
Let us not mince our words
Lets say it true this time
I need your forgiveness
Just like you need mine
Tell me how it is that
You dont want what hes given
It aint no sin son
To be forgiven
Hey foot, straw foot
Low we lay em down
Hey foot, straw foot
All over town
song performed by by 16 Horsepower
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Double Red Daisies
Double red daisies, they’re my flowers,
Which nobody else may grow.
In a big quarrelsome house like ours
They try it sometimes—but no,
I root them up because they’re my flowers,
Which nobody else may grow.
Claire has a tea-rose, but she didn’t plant it;
Ben has an iris, but I don’t want it.
Daisies, double red daisies for me,
The beautifulest flowers in the garden.
Double red daisy, that’s my mark:
I paint it in all my books!
It’s carved high up on the beech-tree bark,
How neat and lovely it looks!
So don’t forget that it’s my trade mark;
Don’t copy it in your books.
Claire has a tea-rose, but she didn’t plant it;
Ben has an iris, but I don’t want it.
Daisies, double red daisies for me,
The beautifulest flowers in the garden.
poem by Robert Graves
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The Charm
LIKE crimson lamps the tulips swing,
The lily flowers their incense bring,
The daisies votive garlands fling
Before the altar of the Spring.
And you and I in this green May,
When thrushes sing, and white lambs play,
Go glad at heart--so glad and gay,
No word seems good enough to say.
Yet there's a charm, it would appear,
Which, if I spoke it in your ear,
Would fix the spring for ever here;
Pass on--I will not speak it, dear.
poem by Edith Nesbit
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Meintjes Kopje
Meintjes Kopje! Meintjes Kopje!
Do the purple daisies grow
On your rugged slopes in spring-time
As they did in years ago,
When I walked with one who loved me,
In the days when love was young;
When our eyes held glinted laughter
And our sighs were songs unsung?
But the laughter fell and faded,
And the wonder-song is still,
And the track goes all untrodden
Past the pool and up the hill.
Meintjes Kopje! Meintjes Kopje!
Other years your flowers restore,
But my love who loved the daisies
Comes to gather them no more.
poem by Francis Ernley Walrond
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Foresight
That is work of waste and ruin--
Do as Charles and I are doing!
Strawberry-blossoms, one and all,
We must spare them--here are many:
Look at it--the flower is small,
Small and low, though fair as any:
Do not touch it! summers two
I am older, Anne, than you.
Pull the primrose, sister Anne!
Pull as many as you can.
--Here are daisies, take your fill;
Pansies, and the cuckoo-flower:
Of the lofty daffodil
Make your bed, or make your bower;
Fill your lap, and fill your bosom;
Only spare the strawberry-blossom!
Primroses, the Spring may love them--
Summer knows but little of them:
Violets, a barren kind,
Withered on the ground must lie;
Daisies leave no fruit behind
When the pretty flowerets die;
Pluck them, and another year
As many will be blowing here.
God has given a kindlier power
To the favoured strawberry-flower.
Hither soon as spring is fled
You and Charles and I will walk;
Lurking berries, ripe and red,
Then will hang on every stalk,
Each within its leafy bower;
And for that promise spare the flower!
poem by William Wordsworth
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Flower God, God Of The Spring
FLOWER god, god of the spring, beautiful, bountiful,
Cold-dyed shield in the sky, lover of versicles,
Here I wander in April
Cold, grey-headed; and still to my
Heart, Spring comes with a bound, Spring the deliverer,
Spring, song-leader in woods, chorally resonant;
Spring, flower-planter in meadows,
Child-conductor in willowy
Fields deep dotted with bloom, daisies and crocuses:
Here that child from his heart drinks of eternity:
O child, happy are children!
She still smiles on their innocence,
She, dear mother in God, fostering violets,
Fills earth full of her scents, voices and violins:
Thus one cunning in music
Wakes old chords in the memory:
Thus fair earth in the Spring leads her performances.
One more touch of the bow, smell of the virginal
Green - one more, and my bosom
Feels new life with an ecstasy.
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson
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Ianthe’s Troubles
YOUR pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,
Cut down and up again as blithe as ever;
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Like little ripples in a sunny river.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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Ianthe
From you, Ianthe, little troubles pass
Like little ripples down a sunny river;
Your pleasures spring like daisies in the grass,
Cut down, and up again as blithe as ever.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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A foot soldier
When I was hurt & lost someone dear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the going got tough with nothing to gear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the faith felt small & doubts really bigger
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When the sky was dark & nothing seemed near
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the wounds were hurting with no immediate cure
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
when the hopes were grim & nothing was clear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
When storms came hard striking some fear
I did go on because I am a foot soldier
I fought & fought & I fought till the victory was sure
Yes, I could do it because I am a foot soldier
poem by Ameya Deshpande
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Spring Did Come.
Spring did come,
On butterfly's wings.
On a flitting bird,
And the song it sings.
Spring did come,
When the flowers bloomed,
When it filled the air
With a sweet purfume.
Spring did come,
On the morning's breeze.
Spring did come,
On budding leaves.
Spring did come,
On blades of dew.
Spring did come,
In skies of blue.
Spring did come,
With a joyous ring.
Spring did come...
Welcome, Spring!
poem by Macy Dvirnak
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