Town And Country
THE Sun tells to Trafalgar Square
His old and radiant story,
And touches in the young spring air
The pepper-pots to glory.
Spring's robe down Piccadilly floats,
The parks glow with her treasure,
And button-holes of morning coats
Rhyme with her royal pleasure.
Now persons beautifully dressed
In Bond-street shop and saunter,
And town--by Spring's soft breath caressed--
Would as its mistress vaunt her.
But far away from square and street,
Where willows shine and shiver,
The splendour of her silver feet
Is on the wood and river.
She laughs among the tree-roots brown,
Among the dewy clover,
For Spring coquets but with the town;
The country is her lover.
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Related quotes
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Berkshires in April
It is not Spring -- not yet --
But at East Schaghticoke I saw an ivory birch
Lifting a filmy red mantle of knotted buds
Above the rain-washed whiteness of her arms.
It is not Spring -- not yet --
But at Hoosick Falls I saw a robin strutting,
Thin, still, and fidgety,
Not like the puffed, complacent ball of feathers
That dawdles over the cidery Autumn loam.
It is not Spring -- not yet --
But up the stocky Pownal hills
Some springy shrub, a scarlet gash on the grayness,
Climbs, flaming, over the melting snows.
It is not Spring -- not yet --
But at Williamstown the willows are young and golden,
Their tall tips flinging the sun's rays back at him;
And as the sun drags over the Berkshire crests,
The willows glow, the scarlet bushes burn,
The high hill birches shine like purple plumes,
A royal headdress for the brow of Spring.
It is the doubtful, unquiet end of Winter,
And Spring is pulsing out of the wakening soil.
poem by Clement Wood
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Fever
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
A little bird, he told me so
He said come on, get on the go
Open your eyes the sky is full of butterflies
The blossoms on the trees stir up the honey bees
Spring makes my fever right
Spring fever, spring is here at last
Spring fever, my hearts beating fast
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Well if you feel the wanderlust
Just grab a car or hop a bus
In every town theres excitement to be found
So much is happening
Dont miss the joy of spring
The worlds in love just look around
Spring fever comes to everyone
Spring fever, its time for fun
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Spring fever, its spring fever time
Spring fever, watch that fever climb
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Spring is everywhere
song performed by by Elvis Presley
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
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
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Mourning Of A Fallen Leaf
From the tree to the ground
One fine autumn morning
I was thrown
None realizing my mute agony
Last spring I was on a royal bed
This spring in the mud
From the beautiful green
To the fading brown
My fate has travelled long..
My place has been filled
By a young green sprout
But by the inevitable law of the living kind
The new one this spring
Will join me next autumn.
poem by Surya S Kumar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Wistful Days
What is there wanting in the Spring?
The air is soft as yesteryear;
The happy-nested green is here,
And half the world is on the wing.
The morning beckons, and like balm
Are westward waters blue and calm.
Yet something’s wanting in the Spring.
What is it wanting in the Spring?
O April, lover to us all,
What is so poignant in thy thrall
When children’s merry voices ring?
What haunts us in the cooing dove
More subtle than the speech of Love,
What nameless lack or loss of Spring?
Let Youth go dally with the Spring,
Call her the dear, the fair, the young;
And all her graces ever sung
Let him, once more rehearsing, sing.
They know, who keep a broken tryst,
Till something from the Spring be missed
We have not truly known the Spring.
poem by Robert Underwood Johnson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Choice
PLAGUE take the dull and dusty town,
Its paved and sordid mazes,
Now Spring has trimmed her pretty gown
With buttercups and daisies!
With half my heart I long to lie
Among the flowered grasses,
And hear the loving leaves that sigh
As their sweet Mistress passes.
Through picture-shows I make my way
While flower-crowned maids go maying,
And all the cultured things I say
That cultured folk are saying.
For I renounce Spring's darling face,
With may-bloom fresh upon it:
My Mistress lives in Grosvenor-place
And wears a Bond-street bonnet!
poem by Edith Nesbit
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Season Of Spring
THE SEASON OF SPRING
the season of spring
weather seems to sing
lovely lovely days
are coming our ways
the season of spring
blooming blossoming
of nature of all kind
let roots unbind
the season of spring
birds unfold their wings
diving high into sky
wish one could fly
the season of spring
careful hearts love sting
reaching out towards others
some persons might bother
the season of spring
nice sound bells ring
new wave new style
faces have on a smile
the season of spring
an new awakening
busy humanity on earth
as if it’s a new birth
listen listen to my words
the season of spring is near
now a look into your lovely eyes
and one can see spring is already here
poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Country Path in Late Spring
The path of mossy ground nestled
In between maternal hedgerows,
That overgrew atop, dimming down
The brilliance of the day.
Embosomed, a calm-cool vision –
Abstract takes of nature, in
Leaf-spattered green shades;
Stem-speckled brown hues;
Shards of sunlight percolating
Through the random flaws to
Up glittering sprites upon the leaves.
And avian chatter bounced along the burrow,
Smattered by the crosstalk
Of busybody insects;
But outside the green comfort zone,
Other worlds of other sounds of other life
Otherwise gave a hint of
Other dozy goings on.
Hawthorn filled the air,
Filled the nose,
Filled the head –
Pungency had overpowered all –
Gave the late-spring-early-summer haze.
Here and there a break of colour:
Odd bluebells – escapees from nearby woods –
Blue-blushing bell faces glancing down,
Aware of their erectness in the stem;
The flaming wing of red admirals
Broke through a hedge hole to
Break up the calm backdrop,
While flitting blue tits gave
To greater-bodied animation.
Nature’s warm narration –
The undertones of life.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring spring spring
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
The Only Joy In Town
I want to paint a picture
Botticelli style
Instead of venus on a clam
Id paint this flower child
You are the air my flowers breathe
He calls, and the ladies turn around
On the first day of spring
Im looking at the only joy around
Hes the only joy around
The only joy I found
The only joy in town
The spanish steps are crowded
Bunch of bodies brooding there
Dead pan side-walk vendors
Hustling vacant stares
Making all the more exceptional
This fool in a flower crown
On the first day of spring
Im looking at the only joy in town
Hes the only joy around
The only joy I found
The only joy in town
The botticelli black boy
With the fuchias in his hair
Is breathing in women like oxygen
On the spanish stairs
In my youth I would have followed him
All through this terra-cotta town
On the first day of spring
Wed dance and sing
And be the only joy around
Wed be the only joy around
The only joy in town
Hes the only joy Ive found
All day
At night these streets are empty
Where does everybody go
Where are the brash and tender rooms
In roman candle glow
Where are fellinis circus
La dolce vita clowns
On the first day of spring
Im looking
At the only joy in town
Hes the only joy around
The only joy I found
The only joy in town
song performed by by Joni Mitchell
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
A Nightingale Sang In Berkeley Square
When two lovers meet in Mayfair, so the legends tell,
Songbirds sing; winter turns to spring.
Every winding street in Mayfair falls beneath the spell.
I know such enchantment can be, 'cos it happened one evening to me:
That certain night, the night we met,
There was magic abroad in the air,
There were angels dining at the Ritz,
And a nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.
I may be right, I may be wrong,
But I'm perfectly willing to swear
That when you turned and smiled at me
A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square.
The moon that lingered over London town,
Poor puzzled moon, he wore a frown.
How could he know we two were so in love?
The whole darn world seemed upside down
The streets of town were paved with stars;
It was such a romantic affair.
And, as we kissed and said 'goodnight',
A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square
When dawn came stealing up all gold and blue
To interrupt our rendezvous,
I still remember how you smiled and said,
"Was that a dream or was it true?"
Our homeward step was just as light
As the tap-dancing feet of Astaire
And, like an echo far away,
A nightingale sang in Berkeley Square
I know 'cos I was there,
That night in Berkeley Square.
song performed by by Rod Stewart
Submitted by Lucian Velea
Vote! | Copy!
An Early Day in May
May soothed
– sensual breeze caressing.
Snug, she cooed in floral chroma;
Gave artistic license – dressing up
Pubescent fields, teenage woods,
Jaded lanes; embellishing
Craggy watersides.
Warmth was kind – sun tempered,
Lifting life; erecting bluebell swathes
For good measure: late-spring treasure.
At hill’s base
A mirrored lake, brooding,
Bathed in halcyon haze –
Yet hectic life scurried,
Spurred on by procreational drive,
To see it all survived another year.
Back home, garden tulips flared,
Thrust aloft on rigid stems, and
Under day-time brilliance,
Open goblets, clustered,
Sought out heavenly guidance –
Lauding hallowed Tulipa gods.
May is Nature’s intermission –
Bridging April’s go-ahead
With hothead June.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
s pring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring
spring spring spring spring spring spring
poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Last Spring
THIS morning at the door
I heard the Spring.
Quickly I set it wide
And, welcoming,
'Come in, sweet Spring,' I cried,
'The winter ash, long dried,
Waits but your breath to rise
On phantom wing.'
A brown leaf shivered by,
A soulless thing--
My heart in quick dismay
Forgot to sing--
Twisted and grim it lay,
Kin to the ghost-ash gray,
Dead, dead--strange herald this
Of jocund Spring!
I spurned it from the door.
I longed that Spring
Should come with song and glow
And rush of wing,
Not this, not this!--But O
Dead leaf, a year ago
You were the dear first-born
Of Hope and Spring!
poem by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring Comes To Old 14th Street
Spring comes to old 14th street-
under their tarpaulins
the bums yawn and stir their limbs
Winter no more rankles their ankles.
Spring comes...
(ginkoes gasp into rheumy bloom)
...to 14th street:
glass glistens there, here,
white, scotoma-bright
the concrete.
A bird unzips the sky.
the gosh-darn Spring comes to ancient 14th Street-
here's grit in your eye.
poem by Robert Dickerson
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
I Love Spring
I love spring
Spring is new
It’s new blades of grass
It’s rain on a lass
It’s violets and rain
It’s a wood-scented lane
It’s a new bird song
It’s days growing long
It’s a tree in bud and puddles of mud
It’s birds in a tree and buzz from a bee
It’s kites in the sky
It’s spring. That’s why
I love spring.
poem by Mohammed Rashid
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Spring has broken
Spring has broken!
Spring has broken!
Spring has broken!
I can feel it in the air,
I can feel it within me,
The rays of morning sun is warming,
The cold freezing world is now behind,
And the burst of renewals are everywhere seen,
The new buds are peeping,
And the cherry blossoms will soon be bursting,
Leave this sadness behind and breath the freshness in.
See again the birds are chirping,
and the little playful squirrels are jumping.
Spring has broken!
Spring has broken!
Spring has broken!
Again this renewal of life must begin.
poem by Spiritual Seeker
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Anterotics
Laughs the happy April morn
Thro' my grimy, little window,
And a shaft of sunshine pushes
Thro' the shadows in the square.
Dogs are tracing thro' the grass,
Crows are cawing round the chimneys,
In and out among the washing
Goes the West at hide-and-seek.
Loud and cheerful clangs the bell.
Here the nurses troop to breakfast.
Handsome, ugly, all are women . . .
O, the Spring-the Spring-the Spring!
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
Anterotics
Laughs the happy April morn
Thro' my grimy, little window,
And a shaft of sunshine pushes
Thro' the shadows in the square.
Dogs are tracing thro' the grass,
Crows are cawing round the chimneys,
In and out among the washing
Goes the West at hide-and-seek.
Loud and cheerful clangs the bell.
Here the nurses troop to breakfast.
Handsome, ugly, all are women . . .
O, the Spring--the Spring--the Spring!
poem by William Ernest Henley
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
When The Spring This Time Comes...
When the Spring this time comes...
I will be there to greet it with a smile.
Each blade of grass will hear my laughter.
And budding leaves will witness my impatience.
They will watch me pacing awaiting their births.
As if each tree...
Secretly belonged to me.
When the Spring this time comes...
A glow upon my face will shine.
I've discovered a life I can declare is mine!
I had taken too much time not enjoying it.
When the Spring this time comes...
Every bird that sings I will hear and listen.
Every flower blooming will get my attention.
Everyone I pass will receive my hello!
When the Spring this time comes...
I will be there to become part of it!
As it has been a part of me,
I did not see like this before.
When the Spring this time comes...
I hope to bore it with my presence.
It is going to know,
How much I want to keep in touch with it.
Until Summer teases.
To leave me with Fall and Winter to please.
When the Spring this time comes...
I am going to get well acquainted.
And appreciate I will this time,
The magnificence of that opportunity!
When the Spring this time comes...
I will not be inside ignoring it behind windows.
They are opened right now,
Just in case Spring wants to surprise...
With an early visit!
I want it to know it is anticipated!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!
A Salute To Spring...Spring Time The Best Time
Spring in my step
Spring in the air
Spring!
Spring!
Lingering everywhere.
Spring fever to follow,
But I don't care,
Spring, for new journeys,
I'll meet you there!
Where?
By the garden gate,
You silly thing,
It's an invitation to frolic
So let's begin to sing.
It's Spring!
Written first day of Spring 2010
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
poem by Dorothy Holmes
Submitted by Poetry Lover
Vote! | Copy!