The Spring Market’s Worn - OR - 'Sell In May And Go Away
The spring market’s worn,
intraday charts hearts warn;
by evening at seven
all margin’s in pawn.
The lark’s lost its (s) wing
though some siren still sing, -
no God and no heaven -
all's wrong, buyers mourn!
The worm’s in the bud,
the spring sees fall’s thud,
cheek earns cheeks too dew-pearl’d,
earns gold turned to mud.
Rosy tassels are torn,
nosy hassles are born,
thorny protests are hurled,
cosy nest-eggs o’er-drawn.
Markdown sours everything -
triple witching hour’s sting -
stockmarket wrings hands
hope at bell’s ring disbands.
Bears fête, bulls foresworn,
short sale corners scorn,
the blue flags are furled -
all’s red with the world!
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Spring Song
A BLUE-BELL springs upon the ledge,
A lark sits singing in the hedge;
Sweet perfumes scent the balmy air,
And life is brimming everywhere.
What lark and breeze and bluebird sing,
Is Spring, Spring, Spring!
No more the air is sharp and cold;
The planter wends across the wold,
And, glad, beneath the shining sky
We wander forth, my love and I.
And ever in our hearts doth ring
This song of Spring, Spring!
For life is life and love is love,
'Twixt maid and man or dove and dove.
Life may be short, life may be long,
But love will come, and to its song
Shall this refrain for ever cling
Of Spring, Spring, Spring!
poem by Paul Laurence Dunbar
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Empty Shell
Tight skin is worn, white teeth soon torn
from roots, where whistle once dared Time.
Though here we warn ambition scorn
who grasps the thistle, stops scared climb
upon greed's back till envy's sting
diverts pride's track, will downfall bring.
Most are foresworn before Death's dawn
sets skin a-bristle, fear's enzyme
warms flesh, as gristle few will mourn, -
working double overtime,
counterattacks relief to bring
all's empty shell before knells ring.
(23 February 2004 robi03_0990 XXX_DEJ)
poem by Jonathan Robin
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Spring's First Day
The sun shines in the sky of blue and gray
It is a cool and rather breezy day
The magpie lark in the Townpark does sing
Pee wee pee wee on the first day of Spring.
The Goddess of Spring she flew in overnight
And no one see her in her silent flight
She is in the South for her annual three months stay
The warmer weather soon will come our way.
In her stick nest on the blackwood the magpie her eggs incubate
Her territory is guarded by her mate
He warns the other magpies in his flute like song
That this patch of ground to her and him belong.
Were I a poet to read or to recite
A song of welcome to the Spring I'd write
To the Goddess of Spring who spreads around her green
No greater beauty than her's I have seen.
The day is windy, sunny, bright and clear
And Spring is in the Southern Hemisphere
And the wattle trees laden in their blooms of gold
Stirring in the breezes lovely to behold.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Pippa's Song
The year's at the spring,
And day's at the morn;
Morning's at seven;
The hill-side's dew-pearl'd;
The lark's on the wing;
The snail's on the thorn;
God's in His heaven--
All's right with the world!
poem by Robert Browning
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Bonny Mary O!
The morning opens fine, bonny Mary O!
The robin sings his song by the dairy O!
Where the little Jenny wrens cock their tails among the hens,
Singing morning's happy songs with Mary O!
The swallow's on the wing, bonny Mary O!
Where the rushes fringe the spring, bonny Mary O!
Where the cowslips do unfold, shaking tassels all of gold,
Which make the milk so sweet, bonny Mary O!
There's the yellowhammer's nest, bonny Mary O!
Where she hides her golden breast, bonny Mary O!
On her mystic eggs she dwells, with strange writing on their shells,
Hid in the mossy grass, bonny Mary O!
There the spotted cow gets food, bonny Mary O!
And chews her peaceful cud, bonny Mary O!
In the mole-hills and the bushes, and the clear brook fringed with rushes
To fill the evening pail, bonny Mary O!
The cowpond once agen, bonny Mary O!
Lies dimpled like thy sen, bonny Mary O!
Where the gnat swarms fall and rise under evening's mellow skies,
And on flags sleep dragon flies, bonny Mary O!
And I will meet thee there, bonny Mary O!
When a-milking you repair, bonny Mary O!
And I'll kiss thee on the grass, my buxom, bonny lass,
And be thine own for aye, bonny Mary O!
poem by John Clare
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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
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Some Other Spring
Irene kitchings / arthur herzog jr.
Some other spring
Ill try to love
Now I still cling
To faded blossoms
Fresh from worn
Left chrushed and torn
Like the love affair I mourn
Some other spring
When twilight falls
Will the night bring
Another to me?
Not your kind
But let me find
Its not true that love is blind
Sunshines around me
But deep in my heart its cold as ice
Love, once youve found me
But can that story unfold twice?
Some other spring
Will my heart awake?
Stirring to sing
Loves magic music
Then forget the old duet
Love in some other spring?
Spring?
song performed by by Billie Holiday
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The First Spring Day
I wonder if the sap is stirring yet,
If wintry birds are dreaming of a mate,
If frozen snowdrops feel as yet the sun
And crocus fires are kindling one by one:
Sing, robin, sing;
I still am sore in doubt concerning Spring.
I wonder if the springtide of this year
Will bring another Spring both lost and dear;
If heart and spirit will find out their Spring,
Or if the world alone will bud and sing:
Sing, hope, to me;
Sweet notes, my hope, soft notes for memory.
The sap will surely quicken soon or late,
The tardiest bird will twitter to a mate;
So Spring must dawn again with warmth and bloom,
Or in this world, or in the world to come:
Sing, voice of Spring,
Till I too blossom and rejoice and sing.
poem by Christina Georgina Rossetti
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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
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The Web Of Eros
Within your magic web of hair, lies furled
The fire and splendour of the ancient world;
The dire gold of the comet's wind-blown hair;
The songs that turned to gold the evening air
When all the stars of heaven sang for joy.
The flames that burnt the cloud-high city Troy.
The mænad fire of spring on the cold earth;
The myrrh-lit flame that gave both death and birth
To the soul Phoenix; and the star-bright shower
That came to Danaë in her brazen tower...
Within your magic web of hair lies furled
The fire and splendour of the ancient world.
poem by Dame Edith Louisa Sitwell
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Gold Watch And Chain
(A.P. Carter)
Oh I'll pawn you my gold watch and chain, love
And I'll pawn you my gold wedding ring
I will pawn you this heart in my bosom
Only say that you'll love me again
Darling, how could I stay here without you
I have nothing to ease my poor heart
This old world would seem sad, love, without you
Tell me now that we never will part
Oh I'll pawn you my gold watch and chain, love
And I'll pawn you my gold wedding ring
I will pawn you this heart in my bosom
Only say that you'll love me again
Take back all the gifts you have given
A diamond ring and a lock of your hair
And a card with your picture upon it
It's a face that is false but is fair
Oh I'll pawn you my gold watch and chain, love
And I'll pawn you my gold wedding ring
I will pawn you this heart in my bosom
Only say that you'll love me again
Oh, the white rose that blooms in the garden
It grows with the love of my heart
It broke through on the day that I met you
It will die on the day that we part
Oh I'll pawn you my gold watch and chain, love
And I'll pawn you my gold wedding ring
I will pawn you this heart in my bosom
Only say that you'll love me again
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Innate actions overtake
.
Reflection earns you wisdom;
Knowledge earns you wisdom;
Experience earns you wisdom.
Innate actions overtake them.
09.04.2009
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Dienda
How like the fall
To be gone in a day
Just as the leaves had turned gold
I was drawn to the sound
That the wind carried down
From an open window pane
And oh, how like a song
Or a sad melody
To linger long after the end
And the harmony rings
With the promise of spring
On a Brooklyn street
How like the fall to be gone in a day
Just as the trees had turned gold
I was drawn to this sound
That some fingers had found
But now the winter seems to stay too long
How like a song
Or a sad melody
To linger long after it's gone
Though the window is closed
And the questions it posed
On a Brooklyn street
How like the spring
To return in a day
When everything seems to be new
But here's someone who's hoping
The window is open
On that Brooklyn street again
And oh, how like a song
Or a sweet melody
To linger long after it's gone
Let the harmony ring
With the promise of spring
On a Brooklyn street
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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Gold Watch & Chain
(a.p. carter)
Oh Ill pawn you my gold watch and chain, love
And Ill pawn you my gold wedding ring
I will pawn you this heart in my bosom
Only say that youll love me again
Darling, how could I stay here without you
I have nothing to ease my poor heart
This old world would seem sad, love, without you
Tell me now that we never will part
Oh Ill pawn you my gold watch and chain, love
And Ill pawn you my gold wedding ring
I will pawn you this heart in my bosom
Only say that youll love me again
Take back all the gifts you have given
A diamond ring and a lock of your hair
And a card with your picture upon it
Its a face that is false but is fair
Oh Ill pawn you my gold watch and chain, love
And Ill pawn you my gold wedding ring
I will pawn you this heart in my bosom
Only say that youll love me again
Oh, the white rose that blooms in the garden
It grows with the love of my heart
It broke through on the day that I met you
It will die on the day that we part
Oh Ill pawn you my gold watch and chain, love
And Ill pawn you my gold wedding ring
I will pawn you this heart in my bosom
Only say that youll love me again
song performed by by Emmylou Harris
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Hen and the Wren
The lovely, laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren.
'Good morning. It's nice to see you now and then.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'Thank you Mrs. Hen.
I haven't seen you for awhile and don't remember when.'
The laying hen said to the itsy-bitsy wren, 'If you recall,
The last time we were together was a bit before last fall.'
The wren smiled and said, 'Oh yes I should have guessed.
It's spring again so I'm back to build another nest.'
The hen said, 'Soon we both will be sitting on our eggs.
Not long after that there'll be babies ‘neath our legs.'
The itsy-bitsy wren said, 'I wish my eggs weren't so small.
Your eggs are so large that your babies will be tall.'
Well the lovely laying hen said, 'Your eggs are just right.
And that song you sing brings everyone delight.'
From spring to fall wherever hens and wrens reside,
There'll be nests, eggs and babies chirping far and wide.
poem by Gregory Huyette
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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
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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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spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
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poem by Mark R Slaughter
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I have a Dream
I have a dream, and you are its spring,
I have a ring and you are its finger
to offer a future where true love can linger
well into the winter of life, so I sing: -
every day, every way, share tenderness true.
Life has a scheme, and you are its reason
ring spinning win/win day in and day out,
minds meeting without hesitation or doubt,
from season to season osmosis agrees on
serenity, harmony, eyes linked, skies blue.
I have a dream, to open my heart,
two hearts combine, part of each each becomes,
never sundered apart, nor divided, a sum
to multiply joy, - let our summer now start: -
let us share love together, forever skies blue.
Life has a scheme, where we two may share
joy's voyage, scope, journey to Cape of Good Hope,
page turns, earns rainbow, learns to tenderly cope,
where bubbles - scares, troubles - dissolve in thin air,
where tenderness timeless unites me to you.
I have a dream, and you are its tune
violins and the moon, in love side by side,
on hope’s wings will we ride with no other beside,
with blossoms which bloom, braving storm and typhoon
we shall share love together, each day brings joy new.
Life has a scheme to play through the years,
where happiness hears far more than is spoken,
where trust answers trust, no promises broken,
affection awoken defeating false fears;
interwoven, our destinies know no adieu.
I have a dream where you are the sun,
true love has begun to burst into fire,
so I take up my lyre to string your desire –
all roses and cream, all winners, all’s won:
let us share love together, forever skies blue.
Life has a scheme, theme tune winning team
forever sings clear in harmony dear,
where both far and near the same may appear,
respect and esteem consecration supreme:
where each day adds to optimistic debut.
I have a dream where tenderness reigns,
where it never rains but to colour the rainbow,
we shall feel Cupid’s arrow, we’ll harvest who sow
seeds of love, we who care shall share joy, know no pains,
every day, every way, share tenderness new.
Life has a scheme where forever we rhyme
outside time, outside space where harsh world might intrude,
outside climb or disgrace, chase, ambition, fall, feud,
where winter seems short, spring's rebirth seems sublime,
felicity's favours afforded to few.
I have a dream, and you are its spring,
I have a ring and you are its finger
to offer a future where true love can linger
well into the winter of life, so I sing: -
every day, every way, share tenderness true.
poem by Jonathan Robin
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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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