The Perfume Of Early Spring
The wonders of this new year,
I'm just now beginning to sense.
The chilly halcyon days now gone
Took away the weeks of suspense.
The early morning dew fallen fresh
Begets the scent of wet vernal leaves.
In flower beds new blossoms form,
With nectar nose bearly now perceives.
Park timber emits a lingering fragrance
Of scented pines and evergreen,
With other trees yet missing foliage
Giving a woodsy scent for nose to glean.
The grasses damp with spring rain
Emit their pleasing smell for miles.
Blending the air with kindred aromas,
The gift of spring in its vernal styles.
poem by Albert Price
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In The Air
Like fresh blossoming flowers on a spring day.
Her scent is in the air.
Like the smell of rain right before it pours down.
Her scent is in the air.
Like the aroma of a hot apple pie cooling on the window seal.
Her scent is in air.
I try to cover my nose with my shirt
but her scent seeps right through it.
It is in the air.
I try fanning it away
but the more I fan the stronger her scent lofts in the air.
I decide not to fight it anymore and I inhale her scent.
It first suffocates me but then it sustains me.
To me her scent is love and it is
In the air.
Ode to the worthy, earthy and free versey
Of what would Spring be
Of what pleasures to see
Were it not for the words
Of a poetic potpourri
A bouquet composed Of fresh
and e'er changing compositions
Of prose composed of flesh,
The heart, and earthy renditions
It's the blossoms of Raskin
Whom to me is a rose
In the pleasure in the reading
As is the scent to the nose
It's the petals Of JewelPhoenix
Which she scatters about
Wonders of her writing
Would be hard to be without
It's Iroconnell, s earthy scent
Of musk and of nectar
That's prosed forth and then spent
To delight those around her
Spring brings also weeds
Like myself and many others
Like thorny Raggindragon, Daddyotom
And many other of my brothers
But today this poem of Spring
Is given to poetesses
Who escape from the trite,
Mundane everyday excesses
Deign to be different
Who, like seedy, Mother Nature
Cast their blossoming thoughts
To the winds of poetic nomenclature
We all write poetry and
By and large we all do it well
But just a few…a favored few
Can gift us the taste, the feel, and the smell
Of not just free verse, nor even of rhyme
Nor so flowery, or convoluted, as often are mine
Just Simple, pure… unadorned…
sweet, honest and sublime
And always poetic, as is Mother Nature
(at least most of the time!)
poem by David Whalen
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Spring In The Air
How can it be, I'm smelling Spring in the air?
There's snow on the ground
and on the trees, everywhere!
Yet the smell of Spring
entered into a sniff of my nose.
As I stood at the sink
up the scent, of Spring had rose.
Is it my girlish heart?
that is wanting this so?
That I smell now it's freshness
in the morn of the air?
I'll keep looking for it
no matter how long it seems to take!
And eventually it will be here
four months of time, and Spring again will awake!
poem by Linda Winchell
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In the Spirit of the Vernal Equinox
In the spirit of the vernal equinox,
Arriving on the 20th of March in 2010.
And in this year and on that day,
For us Spring then begins.
To spark the budding of love,
That awakens nature all over again.
Yes...
Spring is near!
In the spirit of the vernal equinox,
An equal twelve hours are shared...
Between daylight and night.
Normally only true on the Equator.
And for the rest of us,
We get more or less!
Depending upon where we live,
In the Northern Hemisphere.
And what that chosen address.
Shared with those we wish to make known,
Our feelings made to them clear.
With an assisted lingering of eye contact,
Obviously fix with just a bit of lust that appears!
Just a bit to test the interest.
Yes...
Spring is near!
In the spirit of the vernal equinox,
Spring is just a date.
Real Spring might arrive sooner or later.
Although some folks may be preheated...
With anticipation,
For a blooming awaited that takes place.
Yes...
Spring is near!
Keeping those with a patience.
But admitting...
The blood within them races and pulsates!
'You bring out the dog in me,
Clarice.'
~And 'WHO' is 'this' Clarice?
My name is Wanda! ~
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Joy Of Spring
A Spring morning
A warm Breeze
doves cooing softly
Pollen dusted trees
A few brave violets
A red streaked dawn
A very early robin
Earthworms in the lawn
Spring peeper frogs
Smell of dogwood blossoms
Nature’s petroglyphs in muddy bogs
Footprints left by possums
Easter eggs and bonnets
Chocolate rabbits, Missing ears
Jelly beans and sonnets
Spilled easter baskets, children’s tears
Parades,
leafy bowers
Lemonades
Spring showers
Spring mornings
Warm breezes
Deep breaths
Allergic sneezes
Smell of Fresh blossoms
Sound of birds as they sing
Joy of life.. joy of being…
…Joy of Spring
poem by David Whalen
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A Fresh Flower Blue
It's a fresh flower blue.
I wrap it in a sheet.
I love its scent, it's hues.
It sips the mist, the dew
and leaves an odor, treat
It's a fresh flower blue.
Its pets, the bees and crew
they meet, they greet, they eat.
I love its scent, its hues.
From dawn to dusk they woo
and bask in rain or heat.
It's a fresh flower blue.
There's a flower for you
There's one for me. A treat!
I love its scent, its hues.
The day I say adieu
I send you one so sweet.
It's a fresh flower blue
I love its scent, its hue.
poem by Agatha Lai
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My Flower
A scent lingering in the
room
has led me to this very bloom.
A scent so fragrant,
A scent so grand,
A scent so strong it could
spread across the land.
A shade of golden-brown
is something that will not make me frown.
A flower so beautiful,
a flower that's for me
makes me bend on this very
knee.
The allure, scent, and attraction
is enough to control my very
action.
Don't worry, she's not only your flower,
she's my flower.
poem by Casey Jarrell
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Early in the Spring
Early in the spring
Not a leaf has struck the ground
The swallow has yet to sing
And the plowmen are no where to be found
Early in the spring
The forest stands still
And no creature dare come out
Before the sun rises o’er the hill
Early in the spring
The valley holds the morning dew
And its serenity may be captured
By only a certain few
Early in the spring
The trees turn, brown to green
Many changes occur
But few can be seen
Early in the spring
Or in the latter of fall
No matter the change of season
The evergreen stands tall
poem by James Kent
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Scents... ' (or) Tea - Baby
S
C
E
N
T
S
I So, Love The Scent, of A Fresh, Cup Of Tea
Like, I Love The Smell, of A Fresh-Bathed Baby
Both, Are So Very Delicate, Soothing & Sweet
Both, Are A Unique, Fragile-Moment Complete
And With Rose Petals and Soft Lavender Scents
And Apple-Blossoms, Honey and Fresh Peppermint
All Come In Lotions Or Talc-Powder For Baby
And In My Teacup, These Aromas Are Tasty
I So Love The Scent of Steeped-Leaf Tea
And A Fresh-Bathed, Gurgling Baby
Come, Sip A Cup of Tea With Me
While I Hold & Sniff The Baby
poem by MoonBee Canady
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Anticipation
Springs in the air, can’t you smell it?
To me the scent can’t be explained
So it makes no sense in trying.
All I know is springs on its way.
Whenever that familiar scent
Arouses these nostrils of mine
It automatically triggers
A colorful, dreamlike collage
In my anticipating mind;
Muted and inanimate till
The first robin redbreast warbles
Its early morning springtime song.
So, in the meantime, I languor
In this feeling called spring fever.
poem by Albert Ahearn
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Fresh Spring Breeze
Fresh spring breeze
sweeps me beneath my feet
step outside
smell the fresh air
hmmmmmm ahhhhhhhh
fresh
such a beautiful scent
how could spring be better than this?
sit in the grass
look at the clouds
grab a sunflower
hmmmmmm ahhhhhhh
fresh spring breeze
poem by Candiboo Bunny
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Such Beautiful Weather
The wattlebirds calling on the flowering gum trees
On a beautiful day in mid Winter of around eighteen degrees
Such beautiful weather for the time of year
Six weeks to September and Spring is drawing near
A pair of magpies with nesting material for their nest nearby
Make a whirring sound with their wings as they fly
Their young will be fully fledsged by early Spring
The wonders of Nature is a marvellous thing
With black, gold and gray feathers one cannot get wrong
The beautiful bird with the ordinary song
The new holland honeyeater searching for insects and nectar their chirpings one can hear
On a beautiful day for July of the year
September and Spring it is not far away
And we ought to feel glad for this beautiful day.
poem by Francis Duggan
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The flower's scent-Sonnet
The flower's scent for the moon's highness
Is like red of hero leaving his battle far away!
Forever he lives with his induced blindness
'Cause his courage disappeared in the spring of May!
The honest Helen of Troy in her inner fire bent
Her strange memory there wanting forever to lye!
Don't blush her truth and the flower's scent
Don't ever stir the scent of any opened lie.
The indifference and the hate usually can twist
The power of the Rainbow-Queen with a false tear
The rose of the flower's sense maybe don't exist
Even when looking after them very, very near!
The realistic cruelty of any clever black heart
Is to make the sense of any blame a work of art.
poem by Marieta Maglas
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Springtime In New England
The pleasant, subtle sounds of Spring, awaken you;
The madrigal of birds, the unmistakeable sway of a slight zephyr,
May combine, to ensure that you are taken to
Thought of a brand-new start, as answer
To ponderance for need of a glorious renewal;
You need look no further, the change is done.
It is evidence in the resplendent vernal jewel,
As we bask in the glory that is the early morning Sun!
The splendiferous scent of fresh-cut grass, fills the air;
Long-dormant golf swings, seek slight repair;
What was once stark and white, is now lush and green;
Flowers, in a range of bloom, set the scene;
This is springtime in New England, so beautiful, so true-
That is, in my eyes anyway-how about you! ?
poem by Maurice Harris
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Summer’s Now Coming Near
Summer’s now coming near
Nature in its bright giving
Soon again is spring’s year
In the freshly days of living
Ground with new blossoms
In colored shade symphony
Tinctured in fairest bosoms
Whitish and yellow lemony
Easter days impending April
From under snow-white drift
Innovation so much undeniable
In their inventive makeshift
Summer summer‘s soon here
In its delicate scent pleasures
Shining burgeons in its hair
Days of breathing treasures
Now the night is growing thin
In the brightness days ahead
Summer dreams in their spin
With growth in gardens bed
Their Love songs never ending
Tides of variation atmosphere
So much happiness blending
As the new emblems appear
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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Princess Spring Vavroovahana Patra
Beauty Princess spring appears on Earth;
In all creatures plays waves of mirth.
She appears with the fragrance of blossoms;
To adorn her curly crisp hair various beauteous flowers, blossoms bloom.
The princess appears with the vernal breeze;
To derive her love poets become crazy.
Chilly vernal breeze blows from south;
Splendid looks the vast Earth.
Lovely princess is wrapped with a garment of cosy green creepers;
Contents the lovers, poet’s desires.
Sings with the melody of cuckoo on the mango-tree with profound pleasure;
Fulfills earthy innocent creatures desire.
Melody of the brook congratulates the sweet lovely princess with gaiety;
All human creatures enchant with delight.
She is a peerless Beauty;
Beholding, poet enchant with profound delight.
poem by Vavroovahana Patra
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Spring,2004
Spring is bursting
In the Air,
Flowers budding
Everywhere...
Magnolia Blossoms
Open wide,
Daffodills
Both yellow & white...
Spring is Special
Every year,
A Lilac fragrance
In the air...
Dogwoods blooming
Over night
Hyacinths,
So purple and bright...
Spring is here,
It's plain to see
Squirrels scampering
In the trees...
Birds are chirping
From above
Spring Miracles
We Share With Love...
poem by Carmen Strawn
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Spring's Accomplishments
Spring brings with it a warm, gentle breeze
Along with the trees sprouting their baby soft leaves
Gently tapping the ground are the soft showers
Bringing around soft, springtime flowers
Now here they come, the butterflies and the bees
Attracted to the gardens and newly awakened trees
The trees emanate such a calming scent of sap
And the birds nestle down for a peaceful nap
As Easter approaches, the sunshine gets stronger
And as spring continues, the days get longer
The spring goes into a deep slumber
And who takes over then? It's summer!
poem by Caroline Bulleck
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A Flower's Decision
Does a flower breathe
Like you and me?
Breathing in its scent
Exhaling it for free?
Does it smell pollution
And cry inside?
Maybe it wants to close up
And let its beauty hide.
But it blossoms instead
Into the polluted air
And gives off its scent
Just for those who care.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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After The Rain
After the rain, sunshine trickles through lighter clouds.
There is healing, nurturing as it coaxes flowers to spring back,
bobbing to and fro in a balmy breeze.
After the rain there is a golden glow bringing magic
to river banks and church spires while raindrops
glisten on fallen leaves.
Wet pavements dry as children peep from
behind closed doors, tempted by its warmth
and mothers venture out to shop.
After the rain, the stormy, thunderous nights all is calm.
There is a welcome pause before daybreak when
life continues on its merry way.
A rainbow's hues arc across the sky just after the rain
to show us all is well with the world and
lift our fallen chins from the daily grind.
It's nature's promise of a new beginning, new hope,
fresh ardor in all we do. Breathe it in, smell its scented freshness
be at one with nature, as nature is with you.
poem by Ruth Walters
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