En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Spring: New Beginnings

I have always loved the heralding of spring,
When the spell of youth is cast upon everything.
Gardens everywhere awaken from their sleep,
As the sun, from behind the clouds, does peep.

Leafy green shoots begin to sprout.
Flowers begin to pop their heads out.
Yellow daffodils stand proud and tall,
But, sadly, are gone in no time at all.

The sweet smell of blossom on the trees,
Wafts down from above on the gentle breeze.
Buttercups and daises are abundant everywhere
And the buzz of flying insects fills the warm air.

The season heralds a bright new dawn.
Baby birds and animals are being born.
The days are beginning to get progressively longer
And the sun's rays are beginning to shine stronger.

There's a sense of hope at this time of year,
Bringing with it, some much needed cheer.
It's heartening to know that summer is around the corner,
When the weather will grow increasingly warmer.

poem by Angela Wybrow
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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Darkness Awakens Into Spring

Dreary cold Days are gone
Awesome how the trees begin budding
Ravishing is the beauty the
Easter lilies along the fences
Caddy dids and crickets begin
There Sweet Song as the

Darkness awakens into Spring
Now the birds are beginning to
build there nest high in the trees
Preparing for there young
Every now and then you can hear a

Frogs Croak and a big ribit
From time to time sweet smell of
spring is in the air as the
Darkness awakens into Spring
Angelic is the spring air

Wonderful how the tree and flowers
Awaken to the suns beautiful light
As I am sitting here in my window
I watch as a little family of Cardinals
begin to make the trees in my

Back yard there home every year
They return here to build their
nest for their young
As the Darkness Awakens Into Spring

By Melissia Ann Senter

poem by Melissia Ann Senter
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Four Seasons

Summer is sadly on the wane,
As, cool autumn creeps on stage.
The nights begin to impart a chill,
And strong winds go on the rampage.

Darkness sneaks in on us early,
As our evenings invite twilight,
Then we wake up to a greyish dawn,
Following a long and obscure night.

The dying season, is slowly turning,
The leaves to bright copper tones,
Each swooping down, to cover,
The heavily, moss clad, flagstones.

Thus preparing us all for winter,
Putting the whole earth to sleep,
Until our next spring awakens,
And new shoots begin to peep.

These four seasons give us pleasure,
In their own individual way,
The joy of each one's beginning,
The sad ending of each one's display.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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Sonnet-A New Year's Sonnet

Wake up; Wake up, for a New Year is born!
Spring-time has come and the Oak has acorn;
Wake up; Wake up, for the sweet songs of Birds;
They twitter and chatter, flying in hordes.

Wake up; Wake up, for the meadow is green;
The landscape is so bright, lively, serene;
Wake up; Wake up, for the tall grass in dance,
To the tune of the Wind, marching perchance.

Wake up; Wake up, for the gorgeous flowers,
Have blossom'd after the Spring-time showers;
Wake up; Wake up, for the Sun has come out;
’Tis warm day indeed for running about.
Wake up; Wake up, for the weather is fine;
’Tis time you made peace with neighbours with wine

poem by John Celes
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A Spring Morning

The sky is the shade of cornflower blue;
The clouds in the sky, are extremely few.
Caught by the sunshine, everything glows.
A fresh, cooling breeze, now gently blows.

With bowed heads, daffodils seem a bit shy;
I gaze, admiringly, at them, as I pass on by.
Their deep, rich purple, the crocuses show;
A lovely contrast, to the daffodils' yellow.

Green buds are seen on branches, once bare;
Stunning outfits, they will, very soon, wear.
Blossom on a tree, is as white as fresh snow;
Decorating its branches, both high and low.

Birds sweetly sing, high up in the tall trees.
I can hear the familiar buzz of the busy bees.
The butterflies chase each other, to and fro.
Nearby, I hear the call of the noisy crows.

Dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, I happily roam;
For the first time, this year, my coat is at home.
In the cold weather, I rush everywhere so fast;
In the sunshine, I dawdle, so my walk will last.

Upon my skin, I can feel the warm sunshine;
The sun brings me cheer, and I'm feeling fine.
It really is a most pleasant start to the day,
And, fingers crossed, it will stay that way!

poem by Angela Wybrow
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Something About The Girl Called Spring (Sonnet Corona)

I

Just after winter you are back enchanting
with unfolding blossoms on hot sunny days
playing your roles in all your beautiful ways
as if every day is a grand setting

with colours and smells alluring, inviting
man, animals and insects to stray
in orchards, gardens and in the veldt to play
wherever you may be wandering

while insects and birds sing sweet melodies,
even the breeze is charming
in the season that you bequeath
that becomes a time of sweet memories
while everywhere life is swarming;
flowers are as fragrant as your breath.

II

Flowers are as fragrant as your breath
and outside the sun does shine
where flowers and insects ephemeral awaits death
living just as small specs of the will divine.

There are tales about flowers and butterflies that you tell,
about all the minute things, before the first shadows fall
but you have to mention the Creator as well
who fathered everything, created all.

His gardens fill the earth in sheer exuberance
while in summer and spring, in daylight hours
bees, butterflies and birds dance
around the fragrant flowers

in their winged flight,
from early twilight.

III

From early twilight
you are everywhere sent
until the dark night
for the whole world’s enjoyment

and flowering fair
you dance along
without a moment to spare
singing a cheerful song

as a seasonal creature being sweet,
dressed very serene
dancing with fairly like feet
as the essence of the productive machine

and nature everywhere tells,
spring is awaking in smells.

IV

Spring is awaking in smells
with birds singing
rising from the valleys and dells,
sounding in joy about the beauty she is bringing

even every bird, deer and bee,
as the blessings have come
as a time of tranquillity to some
until all of nature is happy and free

when love is finally finding its home
and spring is especially dear to me,
in the air above there’s a vibrant hue
as if it’s a living kind of blue

specked with flocks of birds in their flight;
spring is dressed in white.

V

Spring is dressed in white,
dressed for her wedding day,
when she blesses wherever her flowers stray
in celebration in every day and night

while she dances from early morning light
inviting all her guests, the birds and bees to play,
while she lingers everything is gay
in colours jubilant and bright

with butterflies filling the air,
humming yellow and black bees,
even joined by flying birds that in joy sing
roaming among the almond, peach and pear,
flying to and fro from the blue gum trees
in the unfolding of spring.

VI

In the unfolding of spring
it came to my mind
the words, the deeds and every thing,
of the troublesome kind

that man does to his fellow human beings
as if he is inclined
to act only to his own interest without any feelings,
as if so designed

but around me the new awakenings
are totally unrestrained
in days and evenings
with beauty that is gained

while everywhere flowers are rising,
I long for an eternal spring’s blessing.

VII

I long for an eternal spring’s blessing
as if the Godly plan
in a place where everything is living,
is still in effect for man,

where the songs of birds through the hubbub ring
as if the singing birds are right here
bringing pleasure to everything
making existing so sweet and sincere,

as if from the very beginning
the Lord God was near,
even before human beings were sinning
when these joyous songs fall on the ear:
.
with all of the love that God is granting,
just after winter you are back enchanting.

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Colours of Spring 2008 Version

The gracious orange tree's green shoots do grow
to greet blue sky with golden sun a-glow.
The vernal verdant shoots of Spring now sprout
through soft brown earth, here, there, and round about.
Dawn Daffodils, and Buttercups yellow,
red Rose and amber in alternate rows,
Violets, Lilacs, Pinks are pushing out,
divinity of Nature none may doubt.

(23 March 1975)

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Spring Song III

HERE'S the Spring-time, Sweet!
Earth's green gown is new,
Lambs begin to bleat,
Doves begin to coo,
Birds begin to woo
In the wood and lane;
Sweet, the tale is true
Spring is here again!

I have been discreet
All the winter through;
Now, before your feet,
Blossoms let me strew.
Flowers, as yet, are few;
Will my lady deign
Take this flower or two?
Spring is here again

Make the year complete,
Give the Spring her due!
All the flowers entreat,
All the song-birds sue.
'Twixt the green and blue
Let Love wake and reign,
Let me worship you--
Spring is here again!

poem by Edith Nesbit
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Spring In Victoria

The bottlebrushes laden with crimson flowers
And there is warmth in the October breeze
And with her Spring has brought her blooms and greenery
And birds are singing on the sunlit trees.

Spring in Victoria my favourite time of year
The birds build their nests and raise their families
The weather not too cool or not too warm
A high today of 17 degrees.

The distinct call sounds of the magpie lark
And the Indian mynah sings his scratchy song
Some birds are easy to identify
And by their voices you never get them wrong.

Spring in Victoria is a time of bloom
And sun shines brightly after the brief showers
The fruit trees cloaked in blossoms of pale pink
And gardens look resplendent in their flowers.

My favourite season is always the spring
And spring in Victoria is now in her prime
The wild birds sing and gardens are in bloom
But Nature's beauty fades with the passage of time.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Spring

See how new green shoots
and branches and leaves
and flowers appear
and the green grass
rises everywhere,
the gods had set a part
of Eden here.

Hear the birds
sing and cheer
and see them fly past
and follow the white-hot sun
while the rays comes to stay
for a longer time.

Smell the first rain
and wild flowers
in the fields
and get thrilled
by the sweet scent
that every flower brings

Abide with me
as the trees dress fit
for a royal wedding
and new life
appears from where it hides
and realise that Spring
is a living thing.

poem by Gert Strydom
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Nature's Season's

Season's come and season's go,
There are four in each year,
Of our time keeping.
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
In other parts of the world,
Their season's are called something else,

Each Season is,
Of different type,
Yet,
Two and Two,
To begin and become,
Spring shows the begining,
Of growth and new season,
So for plants,
Vegetation,
Spring Chickens,
Spring Lambs,
The Calflings,
The Fouls,
All come in the Spring,
And flourish in the Summer,

Summer shows bloom,
From the plants to the Fouls,
And all are seen in full bloom,
Even the birds and the bees,
Sing the songs,
Of spring and summer,
With the Sun's rays,
That shows nature,
In full bloom,

By the time,
All is in full bloom,
And what shows and blooms,
Blossoms all summer,
And just when we are relaxed,
And see no clouds in the sky,
The seson changes,
Beginning with,
The fall,

Autumn's,
Season,
Commences to begin,
Where,
All in bloom,
Falls away and decays,
While the rest,
Fly away,
And,
Migrate,
Or,
Hibernate,

And just when,
We have seen it all disappear,
The frost and snow,
Covers all over,
And chills the air,
Where the chilling effect,
Kills off all decay,
And the blue ice time period,
Takes over for a time,
Chilling,
Freeezing,
Keeping everything beneath the earth,
As winter sets itself right in,

And far beneath the froasted earth,
Is all in nature,
Rekindling itself,
To regrowth itself,
And then spring growth,
Again,
Next season,
That starts the circle of life,
2 x 2 = 4,
The four seasons,
Of,
Our circle of life,

Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
The four seasons,
Of ours,
That is 2 x 2,
Spring and Summer,
Then,
Autumn and Winter,
That makes it known,
As 4 seasons,
To us all.

poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Summer Is Nearly Over

Our long, hot summer is sadly nearly over.
No more will we see the daisy or the clover.
The leaves have already begun to fall from the trees.
No longer will the summer flowers attract busy bees.

For dinner, we’ll be cooking hearty casseroles,
To warm through our poor, cold, shivering souls.
We’ll soon be experiencing many a misty morn,
When pretty little dew-drops crystallize the lawns.

In shop windows, mannequins wear browns and greys;
Reflecting the forthcoming grey and gloomy winter days.
We’ll be dead-heading the once pretty summer flowers.
And huddle under umbrellas against the wintry showers.

About leaves on the train lines, we’ll soon have to worry,
And the wrong kind of snow will slow down those in a hurry.
Students will soon return to University, college and school,
As the weather changes from being very hot to decidedly cool.

Out of storage, we’ll retrieve our winter duvets,
And, longer in our beds, we’ll now want to stay.
With the summer season over, seafront cafes will shut up shop,
And pleasure boat rides for tourists will soon begin to stop.

The nights will grow increasingly longer.
The winds will grow increasingly stronger.
Soon, there’ll be dull days and rain drops.
No more will we be wearing strappy tops.

In our woolly hats, coats and gloves, we’ll be all snug.
At night, we’ll sit, by the fireside, with soup in a mug.
No longer will we be craving strawberry ice cream.
Of next year’s summer holiday, we’ll sit and dream.

Soon, we’ll be faced with many a hard frost,
When some of our precious plants may be lost.
Very soon, we’ll have changed our style of dressing,
From summer to winter, which is so very depressing.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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It is Spring Time

It is Spring Time

It is spring time.
I can smell it in the air.
I can smell the flowers.
I can smell the grass.
I can touch the grass.
I can touch and taste the vegetable growing in the garden.
The weather is changing.
The weather is warming up.
The trees are blossoming.
The flowers are blossoming.

It is spring time.
Easter has passed.
Beltane has passed.
Spring and May is here.
This is the time to tend to your garden and planted some flowers.
Some people pray to God to protect their garden.
Some people pray to Mother Nature for protect.
I do both and I thank God for this planet.

It is Spring Time.
The animals and bugs come out to play.
The frogs jump around the pond.
The wildflower comes out.
The sky is clean and blue.
The sun is shining.
The horses are running free.
The sunflowers are growing.
When seasons the earth also changes it is a beautiful way.
Nature is every where.

It is spring time.
There is rain and storm.
The trees have leaves and it arms.
The trees are ancient.
An apple falls down from the trees.
This is what thinks spring time is for me.
Spring time is beautiful.
Spring time is when nature is beautiful.

It is spring time.
Spring time is here.
The rabbits come out, and hop round.
The bees are collection honey for us.
The tulips are blossoming.
The roses are blossoming, and looking so beautiful.
The lavender is purple and bright.
Spring time is a time to celebrate.
Spring time is a time to clean our environment.

It is spring time.
Spring time is a time when rain falls.
Spring time is the time when the seasons changes.
Spring time is when the plants grow.
Spring time is my favorite season.
Spring time is the time to be happy.

It is spring time.

poem by Crystal Chown
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Shakened And Awaiting On A Meter

I am not going to bide my time,
Shakened and awaiting on a meter!
To watch it eat up a clock...
With time I think,
That I've got.

I am not going to bide my time,
Shakened and awaiting on a meter...
'Cause,
I've never had it like that...
With time to sit back,
And to waste.

When Winter melts...
A new season comes to start.
When Spring arrives...
The budding on the trees are seen.
Flowers begin to bloom.
Birds begin to sing.

When Summer comes,
Humid and bringing on a sticky heat.
This is followed by Autumn...
And the leaves then fall from trees.
Blowing everywhere on the streets.
And forgetting all the beauty of the colors.
Mixed and drifting with each other.

When Winter melts,
A new season comes to begin.
The budding on the trees are seen.
Flowers begin to bloom.
Birds begin to sing.
And...
People mingling with each other.
No matter what the skin or the color.

I am not going to bide my time,
Shakened and awaiting on a meter...
'Cause,
I've never had it like that...
With time to sit back,
And to waste.
With people mingling with each other.
No matter what the skin or the color.

poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Spring's Rebirth

This is the time of year being that everything is awakening – once again-
Flowers are blooming everywhere-
Crocuses, daffodils and Cherry blossoms- and
Dogwood, both white and pink
Adorn nature’s window-
The time it is when my father passed away-
And many years ago I became a woman
At the beginning of spring’s equinox-
When everything is becoming
Emerald green and supple as every leaf unfolds on every tree-
I have found bluebirds’ nests upon branches while
Monarch butterflies gently flutter about grasses and perch upon dandelion’s petals-
For many this is the time of year
Tears and wrathfulness have been left behind and
At dawn birds sing a chorus to welcome a new day-
I would laugh if I had no care and
Sing if a tune would only awaken my spirit although
My soul once did a graveyard dance as
My father’s stone brought back multitudes of memories and
I see the ocean though only in my thoughts and recall
That my mother’s ashes were scattered at sea-
It has been nearly twenty years since we were a family-
Tears were hardly shed over the loss only because
In my family’s eyes I could do no right-
As lovely and fragrant as my father’s rose garden could be,
It is long gone and just as
Spring is a time of rebirth for trees, flowers and
A time for celebration-
Travels, longer days and evening thunderstorms-
For me and the essence of my existence this is a time
Long walks in the woods and early morning awakening-
Having abandoned sadness of past memories,
Freedom from being unfairly misunderstood-
And growth within myself in many ways-
Spring is a time for rebirth for trees, flowers and
Creeks are seemingly overflowing as I can hear the gentle breeze
Rustling the newborn leaves upon every tree-
Spring rains shall wash away and drown past remembrances as
I too- in spirit, mind and soul have also been reborn-

poem by Claudia Krizay
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New Year! New You!

And so it's here, another year,
Brand new from start to end,
Towards the future now to steer...
New Year! New You! Dear friend.

Another season, stay at home,
Keep Winter warmers on,
Until it's time you're free to roam,
When freezing months have gone...

When Springtime comes, you'll sense it's warm,
The clocks advance an hour,
So that your mood will then transform,
As if renewed with power...

The daffodils will blossom soon,
Like beacons far and wide,
Then Summer's heat could make you swoon,
Yet take it in your stride...

When chestnuts ripen on the trees
And fields with crops grow tall,
You'll see God's wonders never cease,
When Autumn comes to call...

Another school year starts, of course,
New uniforms for some,
New regulations to enforce,
As if new rules of thumb...

Consider how the months fly by,
Some hectic, some serene,
Then spare a penny for the guy
Soon after Halloween...

Then poppies bought November time,
Remembrance honoured still,
Recalling some war poet's rhyme,
Just like we always will...

And finally, the Christmas cheer,
God's season when you give,
So take your time, this brand new year...
Take time to love and live...

poem by Denis Martindale
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A Butterflies Beauty

Butterfly with beautiful wings,
Glides through the summer
breeze,
As the sun shines upon the wings,
Fluttering oh so silently,
Colors of the rainbow begin to
show brightly,
Like the beautiful colors of
the flowers,
Butterflies blend in so perfect,
Making nature look pretty,
Unique patterns on every wing
has its beautiful story,
Just like nature has its own
story,
Where beauty never ends,
Butterflies will always blend in
with almost anything,
Blending in with flowers, grass,
even trees tall and small,
Including a rest on a fawns little
nose,
It is only to say hi and thank you,
for letting me rest my wings,
Now I must be on my way to enjoy
the summer breeze,
Soon it will be winter and I will
have to leave,
No worries I will return when the grass
is green and trees grow their leaves,
When rivers flow with the sunshine warmth,
Animals tall and small roam again from
slumber,
Flowers blossom beautifully,
that is how you know I will return
again,
Fluttering upon the spring and summer
breeze,
All my family will also return to fill
nature with colorful beauty.

poem by Derek James
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It Is Such A Beautiful Evening

Than Spring it is far more like Summer a summery warmth in the breeze
And sunshine on the old Town and Parkland and sunshine on the bushes and trees
The greeness of Spring all around me such beauty that cannot fail to please
The weather quite warm for September well over the twenty degrees.

Though early Spring few birds are singing in the warm sun of the day
They sing in the cool of the morning or in the twilight's fading gray
The Winter is finally over though Winter weather was far from severe
We may be due for an el nino a warm Spring is looming this year.

The heaths and prickly bushes are covered in their blue, pink and bright yellow flowers
They came to bloom in the late Winter in the cool and invigorating showers
The pardalotes by their nest entrance in a tiny hole in the ground
Wee wren sized birds spotted and pretty where they live small insects abound.

It is such a beautiful evening the swallows they chirp as they fly
And the sun with the warmth of Summer is glowing brightly in the blue sky
And the first brown butterflies of September are flitting in the balmy air
Alone and contented with Nature such moments are precious and rare.

poem by Francis Duggan
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An Indian Summer

After weeks of waiting, our summer is finally here.
For our late Indian summer, we all give a big cheer.
It’s early October and it’s a humid twenty five degrees;
Following days of dullness, it’s hot, with very little breeze.

Alive with people, are those sandy beaches, normally deserted;
There are children, women in bikinis, and with men, unshirted.
Unusually, for this time of year, much flesh is on display,
And the ice cream seller is still doing a really roaring trade.

By weathermen, this sunny spell was recently forecast,
But their expert word was doubted, due to times past.
This time, however, it seems they’ve got it right,
And it is, indeed, extremely hot, sunny and bright.

Office workers sat on benches, eating lunch, are now seen;
Normally, at this time of year, they’d be sat in the canteen.
People converge on the nation’s many public parks,
And stay until 7pm, when the days begin to get dark.

With everything around us, bathed in sunlight,
Our once saddened souls, suddenly take flight.
We didn’t believe we’d see any more days like this,
And, rainy, dull days, we certainly don’t, at all, miss.

But, late at night, when we are lying in our beds,
We toss and turn and struggle to catch some zeds.
Woken way too early by the brightly sunlit mornings,
We rub our eyes and can’t keep ourselves from yawning.

People sit in their gardens, catching the sun’s rays,
On what could be one of this year’s last sunny days.
But, about the hot weather, we shouldn’t really complain,
As, this year, we may not see another sunny day again.

poem by Angela Wybrow
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Sense Of Spring

Spring is the loveliest season of them all,
A source of life and love and gentle things,
Reward for winter's frost and icy pall.
A time when fledglings spread their tiny wings.
Spring is the gentlest season of them all,
When lambs their frail appendages must try,
The sheep stay close, concerned lest they should fall,
And gently nuzzle them to help them try.
Spring is the brightest season of them all,
Spring flowers yellow, mauve and red and blue,
And grasses growing silky, slender, tall;
And trees whose leaves are green of every hue.
Spring is the shortest season of them all,
Dissolving into summer's eager call.

poem by John Knight
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