Spring, 1916
Slow, rigid, is this masquerade
That passes as through a difficult air :
Heavily-heavily passes.
What has she fed on ? Who her table laid
Through the three seasons ? What forbidden fare
Ruined her as a mortal lass is ?
I played with her two years ago,
Who might be now her own sister in stone;
So altered from her May mien,
When round the pink a necklace of warm snow
Laughed to her throat where my mouth's touch had gone.
How is this, ruined Queen?
Who lured her vivid beauty so
'l'o be that strained chill thing that moves
So ghastly midst her young brood
Of pregnant shoots that she for men did grow ?
Where are the strong men who made these their loves ?
Spring ! God pity your mood !
poem by Isaac Rosenberg
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Related quotes
Spring
Frost-locked all the winter,
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
What shall make their sap ascend
That they may put forth shoots?
Tips of tender green,
Leaf, or blade, or sheath;
Telling of the hidden life
That breaks forth underneath,
Life nursed in its grave by Death.
Blows the thaw-wind pleasantly,
Drips the soaking rain,
By fits looks down the waking sun:
Young grass springs on the plain;
Young leaves clothe early hedgerow trees;
Seeds, and roots, and stones of fruits,
Swollen with sap put forth their shoots;
Curled-headed ferns sprout in the lane;
Birds sing and pair again.
There is no time like Spring,
When life's alive in everything,
Before new nestlings sing,
Before cleft swallows speed their journey back
Along the trackless track -
God guides their wing,
He spreads their table that they nothing lack, -
Before the daisy grows a common flower
Before the sun has power
To scorch the world up in his noontide hour.
There is no time like Spring,
Like Spring that passes by;
There is no life like Spring-life born to die, -
Piercing the sod,
Clothing the uncouth clod,
Hatched in the nest,
Fledged on the windy bough,
Strong on the wing:
There is no time like Spring that passes by,
Now newly born, and now
Hastening to die.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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Passes away
Passes away
Everything passes away
The night the star
The day the fire
Everything everything.
I remained as it is
Where it is
Here as a fairy tale.
Death passes away
Birth passes away
And passes away
Everything passes away.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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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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Life's Winter
Idle, semiconscious winter fog
Settles heavy on deforested nude,
Grey and dull, everywhere, dull lull;
Spine-chilling cold, blinding grey fog,
Nowhere light streaks to warm-up heart.
Flowers and fruits of yester seasons
Only breed pains ‘neath smashing dead-weight
And drags life unto cold slow death;
Eyes go red in search of shadows
That grow tall in dusk’s twilight
To squeeze blood in bone-chilling pain.
Days are short, nights are along,
No greens, bare top everywhere;
Winds bite, old memories sting,
Eyes well up like dense white clouds
In distant brood of blue sky.
No colours, only shades of grey;
Thin dull shrieks of deep pain
Leak in slow moves form gulfs
Of grim wilderness of loneliness;
Cold void all round till eyes stretch,
No ripples of joy or warmth anywhere.
What a contrast in winter and spring!
How the spring deepens the chill of winter!
That fulsome spring; this bald winter;
Where has gone those fragrance and musics?
Those warmth, colours and sensuous tastes?
poem by Praveen Kumar
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Ruined By Love
Ruined by love
Ruined by devotion
Ruined by surrender
Ruined by sweetkiss
Ruined by hugfish.
In the light see the dark
See the sky in the earth.
Stone is disappearing
Blood is transforming
Knowledge is blaming.
Waterless river no use
Lightless sun no use
Airless tornado no use
Skyless earth no use
Earthless sky no use.
Useful everything
With eachother
Corelate cooperate
Cohabitate timely
Simultaneously.
Hate and love
War and peace
Both originate
Both vanish with
Dark and light.
Dark and light
Is in our imagination
No body is there for
Modification.
Life is a relation
In love and
In devotion.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Girl From Ipanema
Tall and tan and young and lonely
The girl from ipanema goes walking
And when she passes
Each one she passes goes haaa
When she walks its like a samba
That sways so sweet and swings so gently
That when she passes
Each one she passes goes haaa
Ooh but he watches so sadly
How can he tell her he loves her
Yes he would give his hide gladly
But each day when she walks to the sea
She looks ahead not at he
Tall and tan and young and lonely
The girl from ipanema goes walking
And when she passes
She smiles but she doesnt see
Ooh but he watches so sadly
How can he tell her he loves her
Yes he would give his hide gladly
But each day when she walks to the sea
She looks ahead not at he
Tall and tan and young and lonely
The girl from ipanema goes walking
And when she passes
She smiles but she doesnt see
song performed by by Cher
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Pink Pearl Necklace
Pink Pearl Necklace; and heaven is this,
My island an afterthought mornings glow
and pink sands where coral waves grow.
Happy are the clams every night as pink
sand washes them in your dreams.
Under water so clear I sometimes forget
and stay to long listening to the waves
sing your pink song.
Drifting with the currents of sleep pearls of
yours pink, slip out from beneath my hand.
Filaments permeate the strings of your
dreams leaving me behind on a pink pearl
necklace on this island yours made of dreams.
poem by Is It Poetry
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It Is Spring Now In The Northlands
It is Spring now in the Northlands the Northlands far away
And the hawthorns are heavily laden in their white blooms of the May
And the hooded crow is cawing in his cloak of black and gray
And the white breasted dipper singing in the river all the day.
It is Spring now in the Northlands and cock robin all day long
On the trees around his borders sings his territorial song
And the stream from the foothills by the hedgerows babbling down
On it's journey to the river through the old fields by the town.
It is Spring now in the Northlands a delightful time of year
And the voice of the migrant cuckoo is a pleasant thing to hear
When one has the whims of fancy 'tis not hard to visualize
The songs of Nature's feathered minstrels at daybreak before sunrise.
It is Spring now in the Northlands and the fields are looking green
Where the wildering flowers of Nature in abundance can be seen
And primroses, snowdrops and bluebells bloom on ditch of the bohreen
When one talks of Nature's Seasons Spring is surely beauty queen.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Pink Pearl Necklace.
Pink Pearl Necklace; and heaven is this.
My island an afterthought mornings glow,
and pink sands there coral waves grow.
Happy are the oysters every night as pink
sand washes over them in your dreams.
Under water so clear I sometimes forget
and stay to long listening to the waves as
they sing your pink song.
Drifting with the currents of sleep pearls of
yours pink, slip off from beneath your neck.
Filaments permeate the strings of your
dreams leaving me behind on a pink pearl
necklace on this island you float on made of dreams.
poem by Is It Poetry
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The Beautiful Azalea
The beautiful azalea is a woody shrub that never grows into a tree
But the pink flowers on the azalea are so beautiful to see
In the cool to warm days of October when Spring is in the air
And beautiful Mother Nature flowers on her green cloak wear,
How lovely the azalea in the cool shade of the trees
In her mass of pinkish flowers gently stirring in the breeze
Such a thing of natural beauty for to beautify the Spring
In the nice days of October when the nesting song birds sing,
In her tiny leaves of light green and her mass of bright pink flowers
The azalea she is blooming in the sunshine and Spring showers
But time it keeps on ticking and the years go quickly by
And how many more Octobers will i live for to enjoy?
The sight of the beautiful azalea in her pink flowers in the shade
A thing of such rare beauty by Nature only made.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Oh unchanging tree
Such a beautiful thing Is a tree.
In summer, in winter, in spring, in fall
the beauty of a tree, doesn't change at all
The leaves fall to the ground
all the richest beautiful color
can be found
The snow falls
but it doesn't hurt the tree,
it just lays on it's branches
like frosting on a cake
Then it gets warm, the snow melts.
Say goodbye to to winter, say hello to sping.
New life is such a beautiful thing
But so is the tree, the beautiful mighty tree.
That stands alone as the seasons pass
as when you were old or just a lass.
A tree must have a heart, because when it falls to the ground.
No Joy can be found..
So when you see a tree say hello, they can get lonely you know.
Tell them a story, tell them a poem, they will listen.
This I know
poem by Summer Song
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2nd Christmas Without You!
My little christmas,
with Dad, sister and Brother,
another christmas passes,
still without my mother,
not even so much,
as a seasons greeting,
a christmas without her,
caused by her cheating,
i think about if shes thinking about me,
if she was here,
how different would things be?
today i missed your smile,
i missed your laugh,
the look of hungry faces,
as the turkey was being carved,
the day passed by,
with fun and banter,
with words being whispered,
'oi, pass me another fanta, '
the day was good,
but something wasnt there,
i missed my tiny feely-boy,
hes no longer sleeping,
just an empty chair,
without felix and mum,
christmas will never be the same,
but we pull through together,
again and again,
so another christmas passes,
me, sister, brother and dad,
and this christmas was fun,
with many more to be had!
poem by Emma Jane Rae
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Alone in the Wind, on the Prairie
I know a seraph who has golden eyes,
And hair of gold, and body like the snow.
Here in the wind I dream her unbound hair
Is blowing round me, that desire's sweet glow
Has touched her pale keen face, and willful mien.
And though she steps as one in manner born
To tread the forests of fair Paradise,
Dark memory's wood she chooses to adorn.
Here with bowed head, bashful with half-desire
She glides into my yesterday's deep dream,
All glowing by the misty ferny cliff
Beside the far forbidden thundering stream.
Within my dream I shake with the old flood.
I fear its going, ere the spring days go.
Yet pray the glory may have deathless years,
And kiss her hair, and sweet throat like the snow.
poem by Vachel Lindsay
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He who passes a winter's day passes one of his mortal enemies.
Love Has Its Seasons
A cool chill sweeps through the air
winter is approaching
soon the grass will have a blanket of white
nights will get longer
then soon it will be over for another year.
Spring will be with us
new growth will spring up from the ground
the days will get warmer
when summer once again appears
spreading its colours everywhere.
Then it is back into autumn once more
and the chilly air that it brings.
Love has its seasons also to share
sometimes it can be frosty
and winter chills fill the air
it can be cold
like the white blanket of snow.
Love can be like spring
imparting new life as it begins to grow.
The glow that if offers
is like the warming summer sun
that blossoms into beauty
before the ravages of autumn come
and the years trickle away.
poem by David Harris
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Grow
Grow.
Difficult it is.
And in the doing,
It is magical too.
If you,
Allow yourself to grow.
And not gloat upon your sensitivities.
With emotions on your sleeve to show.
Slow and determine,
To acquire knowledge.
And not upon it sit.
Become more inquisitive...
About life as it exists.
Don't permit,
Given criticisms to stop your quest.
The more that is learned,
The more of them...
May just manifest.
Grow.
It will become easy to be embittered,
By all that appears stagnant.
But a patience that develops,
Will within you begin to navigate...
Over obstacles and things that irritate.
You can and will,
Grow.
Show it with defined purpose.
Grow.
Don't fear ignorance.
Grow.
Overcome it like hopping a fence.
You can and will,
Grow.
Don't sit and bemoan your fate.
Grow.
Ignorance is not bliss.
Grow,
Ignorance can twist,
An unconscious mind into bits!
You can and will,
Grow.
Like a flower that blooms.
And reaches towards the sky.
Grow.
Do not deny it as life passes you by!
Grow.
Learn to fly and soar!
You can and will,
Grow.
Make opportunities for yourself,
And unlock...
All of those locked up doors,
You allowed to close before.
You can and will,
Grow.
Difficult it is.
Grow.
And in the doing.
Grow.
You can and will,
Grow.
It is magical too.
Grow.
If you decide to...
Grow.
Grow.
Grow.
Allow yourself to grow.
And not gloat upon your sensitivities.
With emotions on your sleeve to show.
You can and will,
Grow!
And let that be your mission.
Grow.
Knowing it is your ammunition.
Grow.
You can and will,
Grow.
Grow.
Grow!
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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In His Presence
O for the glory of the risen King
Basking in your presence makes my heart sing
In your presence mysteries are revealed
In your presence I am healed
Rend the heavens, may your presence flow down
When I'm in your presence you are all around
You are vast beyond the heavens and you have no end
It's an incredible thing that you have called me friend
Just one moment with you my King
Has ruined me for the rest of my days
You have ruined me for the things of this world
You have ruined me for all of its ways
For my eyes have seen the King
And I became undone
Your glory filled the temple
And your light outshone the sun
And now my heart is full of light
And fire you gave to me
And every part is full of love
That's deeper than the sea
All of this from just one touch
One touch from the Master's hand
I will worship you forevermore
And in your presence I will stand
poem by Frank McEleny
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The Snowman in the Yard
The Judge's house has a splendid porch, with pillars and steps of stone,
And the Judge has a lovely flowering hedge that came from across the seas;
In the Hales' garage, you could put my house and everything I own,
And the Hales have a lawn like an emerald and a row of poplar trees.
Now I have only a little house, and only a little lot,
And only a few square yards of lawn, with dandelions starred;
But when Winter comes, I have something there that the Judge and the Hales have not,
And it's better worth having than all their wealth--it's a snowman in the yard.
The Judge's money brings architects to make his mansion fair;
The Hales have seven gardeners to make their roses grow;
The Judge can get his trees from Spain and France and everywhere,
And raise his orchids under glass in the midst of all the snow.
But I have something no architect or gardener ever made,
A thing that is shaped by the busy touch of little mittened hands:
And the Judge would give up his lonely estate, where the level snow is laid
For the tiny house with the trampled yard, the yard where the snowman stands.
They say that after Adam and Eve were driven away in tears
To toil and suffer their life-time through, because of the sin they sinned,
The Lord made Winter to punish them for half their exiled years,
To chill their blood with the snow, and pierce their flesh with the icy wind.
But we who inherit the primal curse, and labour for our bread,
Have yet, thank God, the gift of Home, though Eden's gate is barred:
And through the Winter's crystal veil, Love's roses blossom red,
For him who lives in a house that has a snowman in the yard.
poem by Joyce Kilmer from Main Street and Other Poems (1917)
Submitted by Dan Costinaş
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The Absurdity
i was telling sister it was
spring again even though
she knew this but I wanted
her to know it for a sure
thing, she was saying
brother there’s still snow
on the ground, the geese
haven’t even made their
way home yet, it was the
way sure things are sure
until someone says some-
thing, mother’s already
left four messages, let
me know how she’s doing
i’m sure, it’s been four
months since they’ve
spoken, even the phones
have been silent on
both ends, it’s what hap-
pens when sister keeps
going back to the stuff, she’s
saying there’s still ice
on the river, the trees still
crack at night sometimes,
but sister the sun’s back
and I saw the color yellow
yesterday, what you have
here is an absurdity, how
to tell mother I’m stoned
with my sister and arguing
about spring.
poem by Ben Paynter
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How Slow
How slow the time passes
On hot summer days,
How heavy the air,
And the heat, and the haze.
How slow the sun's creeping
In reaching for noon,
How long now the day-time
Belonging to June.
How dry lies the earth
In the farmer's old hands,
How slow plod the herds
As they stroll off his land.
How sweet the bird sings
In the old apple tree,
How slow the leaves falling
O'er pathway and lea.
How far the bell tolls
Over green evening fields,
How close now the haymakers'
Singing and reels.
How slow the time passes
In twilight's night shade,
How slow fell the footsteps
True lovers once made.
Written March 1995
poem by John Carter Brown
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