A Dream Of Summer
Bland as the morning breath of June
The southwest breezes play;
And, through its haze, the winter noon
Seems warm as summer's day.
The snow-plumed Angel of the North
Has dropped his icy spear;
Again the mossy earth looks forth,
Again the streams gush clear.
The fox his hillside cell forsakes,
The muskrat leaves his nook,
The bluebird in the meadow brakes
Is singing with the brook.
'Bear up, O Mother Nature!' cry
Bird, breeze, and streamlet free;
'Our winter voices prophesy
Of summer days to thee!'
So, in those winters of the soul,
By bitter blasts and drear
O'erswept from Memory's frozen pole,
Will sunny days appear.
Reviving Hope and Faith, they show
The soul its living powers,
And how beneath the winter's snow
Lie germs of summer flowers!
The Night is mother of the Day,
The Winter of the Spring,
And ever upon old Decay
The greenest mosses cling.
Behind the cloud the starlight lurks,
Through showers the sunbeams fall;
For God, who loveth all His works,
Has left His hope with all!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Related quotes
Life Is Lovely All the Year
When the buds are blossoming,
Smiling welcome to the spring,
Lovers choose a wedding day -
Life is love in merry May!
Spring is green - Fal lal la!
Summer's rose - Fal lal la!
It is sad when Summer goes,
Fal la!
Autumn's gold - Fal lal la!
Winter's grey - Fal lal la!
Winter still is far away -
Fal la!
Leaves in Autumn fade and fall;
Winter is the end of all.
Spring and summer teem with glee:
Spring and summer, then, for me!
Fal la!
In the Spring-time seed is sown:
In the Summer grass is mown:
In the Autumn you may reap:
Winter is the time for sleep.
Spring is hope - Fal lal la!
Summer's joy - Fal lal la!
Spring and Summer never cloy,
Fal la!
Autumn, toil - Fal lal la!
Winter, rest - Fal lal la!
Winter, after all, is best -
Fal la!
Spring and summer pleasure you,
Autumn, ay, and winter, too -
Every season has its cheer;
Life is lovely all the year!
Fal la!
poem by William Schwenck Gilbert
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Autumn Thoughts
Gone hath the Spring, with all its flowers,
And gone the Summer's pomp and show,
And Autumn, in his leafless bowers,
Is waiting for the Winter's snow.
I said to Earth, so cold and gray,
'An emblem of myself thou art.'
'Not so,' the Earth did seem to say,
'For Spring shall warm my frozen heart.'
I soothe my wintry sleep with dreams
Of warmer sun and softer rain,
And wait to hear the sound of streams
And songs of merry birds again.
But thou, from whom the Spring hath gone,
For whom the flowers no longer blow,
Who standest blighted and forlorn,
Like Autumn waiting for the snow;
No hope is thine of sunnier hours,
Thy Winter shall no more depart;
No Spring revive thy wasted flowers,
Nor Summer warm thy frozen heart.
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier
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Winter's Whitest Spurts
Although John Clare declared that he
saw spring in winter’s whitest spurts,
for many this is hard to see
when, freezing, all our body hurts,
and winter’s direst discontent
makes cold blasts pierce the frozen soul.
We wonder where the summer went
when icy winds exact their toll,
and whistling toll for all of us
on nights we wish would be more silent.
each blast a blaring blunderbuss
that’s aimed to make us all an island,
disconnected from the spring
and summer, fall, that we remember
when we for warmth our cold arms fling
around each other in December.
Inspired by John Clare’s “The Winter’s Spring”:
THE winter comes; I walk alone,
I want no bird to sing;
To those who keep their hearts their own
The winter is the spring.
No flowers to please-no bees to hum-
The coming spring's already come.
I never want the Christmas rose
To come before its time;
The seasons, each as God bestows,
Are simple and sublime.
I love to see the snowstorm hing;
'Tis but the winter garb of spring.
I never want the grass to bloom:
The snowstorm's best in white.
I love to see the tempest come
And love its piercing light.
The dazzled eyes that love to cling
O'er snow-white meadows sees the spring.
I love the snow, the crumpling snow
That hangs on everything,
It covers everything below
Like white dove's brooding wing,
A landscape to the aching sight,
A vast expanse of dazzling light.
It is the foliage of the woods
That winters bring-the dress,
White Easter of the year in bud,
That makes the winter Spring.
The frost and snow his posies bring,
Nature's white spurts of the spring.
12/24/09
poem by Gershon Hepner
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Summer Days
Summer days are warm, and wonderfully long.
Deep down, within my heart, I feel a joyful song.
Gone are winter days, with their dowdy browns;
The trees and flowers now wear coloured crowns.
The natural world displays its bounteous beauty.
The soft, summer breeze is fragrant and fruity.
Bees, butterflies, and other bugs, now take flight.
Days of summer, feel so very cheerful and bright.
The days of winter can be so deeply depressing,
But now, their true selves, plants are expressing.
Suddenly, the world feels like a much better place,
And the happy smiles are evident on many a face.
The world, all about us, is given a golden glow,
Which illuminates Mother Nature's vibrant show.
Following the winter months: all dull and dreary;
We're treated to a display that's much more cheery.
Winter woodlands appear so very bland and bare,
But, come the summer, they look fabulous and fair.
Shafts of sunlight shine down through the tall trees;
The leaf laden branches rustle in the summer breeze.
Some secretly wish that summer could last forever;
That, all year round, we could enjoy warm weather.
Once summer is here, you hate for it to have to end;
You warm to it, as you would, to your dearest friend.
poem by Angela Wybrow
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Just March(ing) Along..
When Winter begins
to lose His touch
and his buddy Jack Frost
don't hang 'roun as much..
The days will be one day
all sunny and warm
then by morning wake up
to a winter snow storm
March isn't winter
spring, summer or fall.
March seems to be marching
into changing it all.....
March is a beginning.
March is a end.
Winters defeater (the spring time leader)
March is marching spring in...
poem by Connetta Jean
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A Reason for Every Season (My ode to the seasons and Indian summer.)
There is a purpose that God and nature gave us every season.
Fall, winter, spring, and summer always happens for this reason.
In the fall all the trees turn many cool colors and paint a wonderful hue.
Winter arrives the temperature drops and can make some of us blue.
When spring is near they say April showers bring May flowers.
The weather becomes hotter when summer arrives.
The summer also brings us June weddings and brides..
Without the seasons then life for all mankind would be just a bummer.
We all wish for our weather outside to be like a warm Indian summer.
*I got inspired this write my poem after I read the poems; ‘INDIAN SUMMER’ by Emily Dickinson and the other poem is called ‘LOVE IS LIKE AN INDIAN SUMMER’ by Sue Raymer Woods.
Definition Indian summer - noun is a name given to a period of sunny, warm weather in autumn, not long before winter.
poem by Nichole Kaci McKnight
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To Each a Season
Summer kisses Winter's Hands
thereby warming them
as she takes her hair
and wraps him
in the midst of the blowing gale;
her arms reach out
to his icy branches
giving a spark to each sleeping bud
awaking each from its frozen winter encasement.
But Winter's Heart
is cold indeed
whispering to her in her ministrations
'I am Winter and Winter is my fate;
from my icy cradle
Spring is born
and I must not miss her birth.'
Summer was angry.
'Am I not more fair than she?
Have I not given you solace
in your icy retreat?
Have I not offered you much more than she?
If I withdraw my succorings
where would you be? '
'I would' Winter said
'Winter be.'
With that Summer took her Golden Hair
threw it back upon her beautiful shoulders
asking herself 'Where is the gratitude? '
Winter reached with his thin cold fingers
uttering,
'Summer is too warm for me because without
my wild blizzard face I lose my Winter Grace and Winter's dignity-
becoming only melting ice;
discarded slush
snow-flake crushed
and I would wander
my melting realm
and seep into muddy ground,
gone.'
'I understand' Summer said
'Spring, when you put it that way
seems a better bride for you since
she kisses your icy buds
slowly bringing them to blossoming
and I would perhaps apply too much heat
too soon;
they would be born flower wilted
'I understand, ' she said
flying away
'yet I am still sad.'
Below
Winter held his arms high
to welcome
the smell of
Springs breezes
not knowing
Summer in coming to him
had sacrificed her own season
and lay dead
beneath Winter's snow
unknown to him;
because indeed her love was so great
she had given up
her own Summer season.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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The Seasons Are Like You
The seasons are like you
Flowers bloom humming birds come home everything
Changes but not you you stay the same they must
Leave and you will stay cause you are my winter
Spring summer and fall you stay with me through
The seasons cause you are my winter spring summer
And fall stay with me you have the eyes of winter
The face of spring the body of summer the hair of
Fall because you are like winter cool and calm you
Are like spring beautiful and blossoming you are
Like summer warm and caring you are like fall
Gentle and long lasting cause you are like winter spring
Summer and fall you are my seasons without you I
Am nothing do not leave me I need you careing stay
Please I need you
this is dedicated to savannah
poem by Tucker Lane
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Looking, Watching, Waiting
It's Winter now,
And everything is cold and bare.
Used to be lush and green,
Covered in leaves.
The snow is melting.
It's getting warmer.
Spring is on it's way.
Now Spring has come
The snow has all melted,
And the trees are getting more leaves.
It's warm now,
And i can't wait for Summer to arrive.
Summer is finally here!
I go outside and run barefoot through the streets.
Windows are open and the birds are singing.
Summer is finally here!
Now Summer is gone, and Fall is in the air.
Soon it will get colder,
And i will once again be looking, watching, waiting,
For Summer's arrival.
poem by Vi Lanflagle
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The summer it snowed
Blue skies
yards of green
flowers of mulitude
among such wonderess gifts
I walk towards my ever nearing
winter
My lungs full of dirty snow
I hear not the singing of birds
but the calling of my black forcast
Summer
kids play
boats sail
I succum
no longer able to shovel
the snow away
Yet in peace in tread
for months are now weeks
and soon weeks will be days
For me spring brought fall
and the summer brought
snow
and the winter will bring
my forever peace
poem by Vincent Armone
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Wild Daisies
They are Nature's natural survivors though they seem so dainty and small
And they bloom in all Seasons and weather In Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall
With yellow hearts and snow white petals the wildflowers everybody does know
Even on the coldest days of Winter they bloom in the shade by hedgerow
Wild daisies distinct from all others the flowers everyone recognize
They close their petals to the night air and open their hearts to the sunrise
Even in the coldest days of Winter the wildflowers one often does see
So dainty looking yet so hardy they always do look disease free
When I was young in depths of Winter they bloomed in the fields far away
The very same species of wild daisies I see in the town park today
They must have been around forever the hardiest of little wildflowers
They even bloom in the coldest of weather in the sleety and wintery showers
They are Nature's natural survivors the poets their praises do sing
They bloom in all Seasons and weather Summer, Autumn and Winter and Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Winter's Summer
Winter without you is like
a summer in a winter, when memories
of your love murmur in my winter.
Summer in a winter was never been
hot as it is.when the memories
of your love thrills me today.
Winters summer were very rare when
we walked on the bed of purple flowers
with your affectionate look.
When I forget this heat and
hold you in my poetic arms, you
kiss my poem through your heart
in this winter.
winter's summer was very rare...
venky
poem by Venkatesh Nagaraj
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A Masque Of The Seasons
Scene.--_A kitchen.--Group of Children, popping corn.--The Fairy Queen
of the Seasons discovered in the smoke of the corn-popper.--Waving her
wand, and, with eerie, sharp, imperious ejaculations, addressing the
bespelled auditors, who neither see nor hear her nor suspect her
presence._
QUEEN
Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,--
Which do you like the best of all?
LITTLE JASPER
When I'm dressed warm as warm can be,
And with boots, to go
Through the deepest snow,
Winter-time is the time for me!
QUEEN
Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,--
Which do you like the best of all?
LITTLE MILDRED
I like blossoms, and birds that sing;
The grass and the dew,
And the sunshine, too,--
So, best of all I like the Spring.
QUEEN
Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,--
Which do you like the best of all?
LITTLE MANDEVILLE
O little friends, I most rejoice
When I hear the drums
As the Circus comes,--
So Summer-time's my special choice.
QUEEN
Summer or Winter or Spring or Fall,--
Which do you like the best of all?
LITTLE EDITH
Apples of ruby, and pears of gold,
And grapes of blue
That the bee stings through.--
Fall--it is all that my heart can hold!
QUEEN
Soh! my lovelings and pretty dears,
You've _each_ a favorite, it appears,--
Summer and Winter and Spring and Fall.--
That's the reason I send them _all_!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Last Days of Summer
Whatever the way the summer days end,
In the type of summer is how it has been,
Whether a good one or bad one,
The last days of summer,
Can be sad or happy endings,
As each season ends,
With another one beginning,
The summer could have been,
Miserable yet,
Sun scorching us everyday,
And sunlight shining on all our faces,
It is how it is,
Out there where all is seen,
In,
Summer days of fun,
Summer days of love,
Summer days of seeing,
Summer days of been,
Out and about where summer is,
And when summer came and went?
With a mundane feeling that it left?
Was the last days of summer,
And the begining of another,
Autumn as we know it,
Fall in other places,
Where the ending of one season shows,
By the decaying of it,
When Autumn Fall shows,
Where we will wrap up and snuggle,
With warm cuppas drinks,
With a book,
Or,
Catch up on watching films,
Yet,
Still,
Musing over the summer days,
Of sunshine memories,
Now,
Warm hats and gloves,
With rustle leaves,
That rustle beneath,
Our feet as we walk,
Through the park,
And see,
The summer leaves turn,
To autumn shades,
Taking in,
The last days of summer,
Reflecting,
And remember,
The falls of Autumn's,
Is the signs of summer,
That has ended,
And minglings with,
All that falls,
From the summer ending,
To autumn beginnings,
Is the,
Decaying,
Of summer,
To regrow itself,
For next season's of summer,
When it begins again,
Yet,
In between,
There's,
Autumn,
Winter,
Spring,
Till,
Again,
Last days of summer,
And all in bloom again.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Wintertime
Snow falling on the ground,
Little white flakes to be found.
Lift your head to the sky,
And watch the snow zippin’ by.
Cold wind at your back,
Nothing winter seems to lack.
A blanket of snow covers the Trees,
Winter can’t end. No please!
Can’t Jack Frost do his Job?
For a little longer, don’t make me sob.
Can’t I stay in this Wonderland?
I don’t want to return to golden sand.
But under the layer of cold, white snow,
Lies little seedlings ready to show.
I must say a grateful farewell,
To winter fun, for it was swell.
And say hello to summer sweat,
Instead of getting cold, we get wet.
Hello Spring! Hello Summer!
Goodbye Fall! Goodbye Winter!
Winter Bird
Winter bird, winter bird
Why are you still here?
It is now June, the bright sun has appeared.
The warmer temperatures are to arrive soon.
The snow is gone, and you should be too.
As well as the foilage that familiar to you.
There is a different rhythm in the air.
The smell of flowers blooming everywhere.
You should be in hidding, somewhere out there.
Awaiting your winter season inorder to appear.
Yet, I can see your presence and hear you quite clear.
Oh, dear bird of winter, why are you here?
poem by Angel A. Lockwood
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An Icicle Kiss
'I am the Winter Flower'
she said
'the opposite of the Summer Ones.'
'My blooms
peak in deep snow
and I weather
hail, sleet and bitter cold.
My Summer Kin
know the Sun.
I live beneath
White Winter's Glow
withstanding
blizzard wind
as furies blow.
I produce
anti-cold;
survive
winter's
frozen mold.
My petals
are steel-forged
for winter has made
me strong.
My bulb forces it's way
up through frozen ground
and defiant
I face worst Winter's onslaughts.
My petals
fold, unfold
peak,
and stare Winter down.
I am the Winter Flower
beautiful in my Ice Tower.
I too,
have my Ice Prince
who plants upon me
an Icicle Kiss
beneath diamond shining
beautiful,
frosty
Wintry Stars.
poem by Lonnie Hicks
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There 'Use' To Be A Winter In New England
Pretty soon people will be complaining,
About getting any snow at all.
Especially in New England...
When Summer and Fall,
Seem to rush to connect with Spring.
It is January and there is a dusting of snow.
And people heard strolling on the streets...
Say it is cold.
Wearing nothing but jackets and no Winter coats.
There 'use' to be a Winter in New England,
This time of the year.
And many would ski and slide the slopes.
Prepared in their snow wearing gear.
And every year Winter seems to be taking a backseat,
As warmer days come to tease...
Those who love the snow,
To witness it quickly leave.
There 'use' to be a Winter in New England,
This time of the year.
Pretty soon people will be complaining,
About getting any snow at all.
When Summer and Fall,
Seem to rush to connect with Spring.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Song Of The Evergreens
Listen to the briskly whistling winter evergreen
Whispering through the frozen morning light
And tell me whats to come
Saying my time is near
Never fear
I close each year
Im winter
Reminding me to trade my t-shirts for my woven wools
Trade my sandals for my skis
Whispered warnings in the wind
Saying soon come the dancing snowflakes
Theyre kissing every tree
Theyre kissing you and me
Please hurry
Falling
Dazzling dancing diamonds from the sky
Prisms
Rainbow sparkled flurries in our eyes
Whipping across the frozen crystal meadow
Pond of ice
Race the snow
Well build a warming fire there
And cuddle close and wine and dine
The setting sun
The morning light will find us high
Shooting down the glistening mountain side
Screaming through the whispering pines
The freedom of each day
Will cleanse our minds
I can hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
I can hardly hardly wait for winter
I can hardly wait for the snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
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Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
Snow snow snow snow snow snow snow snow
song performed by by Chicago
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Mother Nature Can Be Fickle
Winter’s cold is Mother Nature’s way
Of saying, lie with me now, lay your head on my breast
It’s snow, a blanket under which to lay
Neath a crystal cover, enjoying winter's cold caress
Frost rimed windows … Mother Nature’s art
Icy abstractions painted with frosty finesse
Crystalline concoctions that form only a part
Of Mother Natures wonderful winter largesse
Ice coated limbs of slope shouldered trees
droop drowsily down as if fallen asleep
Unable to sway in winter’s frigid breeze
Appear as white mounds, when the snow drifts deep
The stillness one hears on cold winter nights
Broken by the sudden crack of ice laden boughs
The ethereal essence of undulating northern lights
Headlights in the sky for Nature’s snowplows
All is withdrawn, in awe of Nature’s might
Willingly waiting, deep neath frozen ground
Safely sequestered, from winter’s cruel bite
In warm tunnels and burrows, til spring comes around
Mother Nature invites winter into her domain
Cohabits with coldness, wantonly sleeps with Jack frost
Yet finds cold winter quickly falls to disdain
Invites in the spring…and tells winter to get lost
Mother Nature is fickle…and also the boss!
poem by David Whalen
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