A hint of green for M'Lady Lucianne
Today I saw the first small signs
of Mother Natures Spring Designs.
Some tiny leaves of tender green
against the bare twigs to be seen.
The hedgerows will be clad anew.
Though it will take a week or two.
We will say goodbye to winters reign
and welcome back the spring again.
The sun grows stronger day by day
and blue replaces skies of grey.
My old bones will appreciate
the warmth although they’ll have to wait
A little longer for relief
I am quite sure it will be brief.
24-Feb-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Skeletons Of Summer
Branches naked against skies of blue,
Skeletons all, with summer gone,
Stark and rigid, in morbid hue,
Oh, so sad now, to look upon.
Festive trees no longer seen,
Nothing softening to the eye,
Only memories of what has been,
Now the leaves have said 'goodbye'.
But once the spring comes into view,
These skeletons will live and thrive,
Those spreading arms will be clothed anew,
And once again become alive.
New buds will sprout from boughs so bare,
And will in time, exposed limbs, disguise,
Then a glorious show, nothing will compare,
With this vision of green, against clear blue skies.
poem by Ernestine Northover
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There and back again for M 'lady Chitra
There are no blossoms to be seen.
They’ve served their turn and left the stage
The trees are clad in shades of green
One further step on their passage
from the bare twigs of winter time.
Stark silhouettes against the sky
then blossom time which is sublime
Providing pleasure for the eye/
The trees are in their summer dress
More subtle than their spring attire.
Waiting for autumn to impress
with leaves that seem to be on fire.
The autumn winds well strip them bare
and spread their glory on the ground.
A coloured blanket everywhere.
and twigs now dancing to the sound
of early winter gales that blow.
Creating eerie harmonies,
bare branches moving to and fro
produce discordant melodies.
The trees endure the winters rage,
the bitter cold and falling snow,
The know it’s just another stage
they’re well prepared to undergo.
Before the welcome spring returns
to prompt new tender leaves to grow
Followed by blossoms in their turn.
As seasons come and seasons go,
07/06/2009
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Her Eye Colors
spring
lush foliage
buds of flowers
tiny leaves
sprouting from the
twigs
in Hongkong
where there is no
space for gardens
she draws spring
in the colors
of her eyes
shades of green
and pink and
red and
blue for the flowers
the clouds
the horizon
the sun
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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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
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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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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The Speedwell (Novelinee)
In small bushes brilliant blue wild it grows
and if picked the tiny flowers fall,
in spring it is among the hedgerows
with eyes constantly watching it is small
and in the early red morning new born,
something living tranquil and really free
like a inviting berry on the thorn
it has a kind of serene beauty
is very fragile and somewhat lovely.
poem by Gert Strydom
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The sky was blue
The sky was blue today.
Sun light glinted on my eye lids and bare stretching branches.
Along the railway embankment, though it is early spring,
the spindly matted trees, silhouetted against the cloudless sky,
glistened a golden russet red.
Melodious song rung out from the hedgerows and,
as I walked,
the wind caressed my face.
Today the sky was blue and nature held my heavy heart
in her tender warm embrace.
poem by Diana Rosser
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Winter Fox Wakes Not The Flowers
As dawns winter breeze raps her damp chill around the still trees,
The morning sun peeks and sends meagre warmth to grasp,
Black clouds unwanted hurry by, leaves rustle to please
That turns from green to sunshine silver not to last.
A solitary fox stands out crossing a snow clad field
Silent stealth, as if not to wake sleeping spring flowers,
Knows natures shopping cart as not much to yield
Then changes tracks into the cover of the forest wooden towers.
Nothing is growing all conserving for the burst of spring,
Then the fox appears prey in mouth he caught as he leapt,
His family snug in his den knowing sustenance he will bring.
Life goes on living to natures rule for the adept
poem by Ken e Hall
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Redbud Peeks
Redbud peeks
Beyond the showy white dogwood.
The wet Spring breeze blows soft,
As the thick smoke clouds race low across
The unseen sky.
Rust pink maple seeds
And Spring green leaves,
Shudder among the dark green pines.
The whistling wind and waving tawny grass
Bid the last Winter cold, 'Be gone! '
Let the warmth of Spring day sun arrive. 'Goodbye! '
(4.13.9 Waterfall)
poem by Heather Z. Hanna
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Autumnale for M lady ernestine
The falling leaves dance in the breeze
and clothe the ground beneath the trees,
in autumn colours rich a rare.
The trees themselves will soon be bare.
Left no defence against the wind.
Their winter plans are well designed,
bare twigs and branches hold less snow
than useless leaves they have let go
The wintry gales to no avail
try hard but they are doomed to fail,
They can’t destroy the sturdy trees;
resisting with apparent ease.
Although they bow before the blast
they know that winter cannot last
The winds will die and fade away
the trees will they’re here to stay.
Spring will return the trees will green
as if the winter had not been.
The trees put on their new spring clothes
along with every plant that grows.
8-Oct-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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Winter won't end
The leaves are falling
The darkness comes early
The sun leaves no warmth
The emptiness grows
How I long for spring
Like the longer days, will bring hope
As if this passing, will ease the pain
A desperation clings to me
The season a reflection of my soul
But inside I know
That spring won't change anything
the days will still seem dark
And the cold will cling to my heart
For you are my spring
For you are my sun
For you are what makes me new
For you are the reason for my hope
Time will pass
Summer will come
But to no avail
Enduring beauty for M'ladyCatherine Rica Coso
From bare black twigs against the sky.
Transformed by spring to blossoms white.
To me a more than welcome sight.
Which alas too soon will die.
But in their place new greenery
Leaves seem to unfurl overnight
in shades of green which catch sunlight
Add lustre to the scenery.
The leaves will last the summer long.
Before they don their autumn dress
in garish colours to impress
The winds which sing the winters song.
The trees return to nakedness
Retaining beauty none the less.
31-May-08
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poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The First Signs of Spring
The first signs of spring bring smiles and joy to us all,
Its the beginning of nature and the birth of the new season,
It brings life and renewal back to the cold plains,
Springing buds that will flourish,
Then open in full bloom for summer,
The young of the cattle and the spring of the lamb,
Are all the signs of spring,
With the snow and freeze temperatures,
Turning into cool breezes,
And clear sunny winds blowing,
Knowing its spring again,
The mundane feelings of winter blues,
Start to diminish in our seasonal affective winter faces,
As the sun shines a bit warmer,
So does the color of our face glow brighter,
And all show well in the spring of their steps,
As even the old can get out some more,
Now spring has arrived with safer passage,
Spring is also a time to clear out,
The unwanted items in our homes as we spring clean,
Then there the things to forget or put in the past,
Is in the spring cleaning of our thinking,
To clear our thinking better for a clearer future,
Then there's the renewal of forgiving,
As we forgive and forget,
Forgiving to start anew,
Is the starting again,
Or re birthing the past,
With a new attitude to help,
Its foundations this time round stronger,
Spring,
Is the time to see how it all begins,
For what is way beneath the ground or hibernating,
In the spring shows itself and nature in it splendor,
For what decays and withers,
The spring shows its second coming,
From what lay beneath the ground all winter,
Springs renews in growth,
And mother nature shows her splendor,
Come the first signs of spring,
We all start feeling somewhat better.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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The City is Short Today
The city is short today
and it can’t be anymore
than just a few blocks wide today
and the city is grey today,
grey and cold
and the city is short today
the skyscrapers,
only a few inches tall now,
sway back and forth,
caught in the grasp of a
sharp, cutting wind,
the sky scrapers rankle me today
and the city is short today
and the people walk about today
like zombies,
tiny zombies,
their faces and clothes
lack any colour,
and they resemble ants,
they wait on the street corner,
waiting for a miniscule bus
to take them out of this
tiny city
and the city is short today,
and grey
and cold
and small,
so very small
and yet, it towers over me.
Copyright (C) MMIV (2004)
poem by Derek R. Audette
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Spring Rains (a Villanelle)
There shall come Spring rains
When all seems lost to the cold decay
And Winter shall release its icy reign
When hopes anew are all but slain
By the bitter hold of frigid days
There shall come Spring rains
Vernal longings shall make their way
As colors emerge from shades of gray
And Winter shall release its icy reign
Nature's display may seem bleak and inane
As Winter's chill yet still remains
There shall come Spring rains
Joy will abound where sorrow had lain
As Spring once more holds sway
And Winter shall release its icy reign
Cold may rear its head time and again
Bear faith and do not dismay
There shall come Spring rains
And Winter shall release its icy reign
poem by Sheri Hockman
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Trimming The Trees, Pruning The Twigs....
on the tree of life
there will be more leaves
and twigs and flowers
on spring
and more luscious fruits
for eating
there is somehow a
need for trimming
what excesses are there
twigs that go awry
leaves that lush for too much
shade
and so we do just that
cut some twigs
take a look and cut some
more
remove some leaves
for sacrifices
for us to some more
and some time
see heaven for once.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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In Waiting for M' lady Fay
There is no bright sunshine today
it’s overcast the skies are grey.
A chill wind blows.
The harvest safely gathered in
and stored away in box and bin.
For no one knows.
How long it is until spring
returns to renew everything
Which lives and grows.
We will survive I am quite sure
but until then we must endure
The winter snows.
Now Mother Nature does her best,
tries to ensure her children rest.
Because she knows
With springs return life starts anew.
Each living thing knows what to do
to thrive and grow...
The seasons come, the seasons go.
Since time began it has been so
that’s all we know.
11-Nov-08
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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The Seed
In the spring
when the air has warmed.
I
planted a seed
a tiny seed.
I
along with my faith
to Mother Earth entrusted it.
I
hoped she would
nourish and coax the blossom
hidden within that seed so small.
To
spring forth in the summertime
with
its beauty its fragrance.
That all may behold and enjoy.
Until
autumn time
when back it returns
to a seed to sleep
to wait.
To be reborn.
poem by Kurt Hearth
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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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Back There In Old Duhallow The Frosty Fields Are Gray
Back there in old Duhallow the frosty fields are gray
And the wildborn birds are silent at the dawning of the day
And the chilly winds of January sough in the naked trees
And ice is on the dark pond from the hard overnight freeze
In January in Duhallow the hedgerows looking bare
And in the rushy field by the river the shy and elusive hare
In the greyness of his surroundings quite visible in his coat of brown
For to warm the coldness in his bones through the rushes racing up and down
From the fields of old Duhallow the Spring seems far away
And the cattle in the farm-yard shed are bellowing for hay
And hungry birds by the back door squabble over crusts of bread
And before the warmth of Spring weeks of cold weather ahead
And the chirping house sparrows in the back-yard the only birds one does hear
Back there in old Duhallow tis a cold time of the year.
poem by Francis Duggan
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