
1915
I’ve watched the Seasons passing slow, so slow,
In the fields between La Bassée and Bethune;
Primroses and the first warm day of Spring,
Red poppy floods of June,
August, and yellowing Autumn, so
To Winter nights knee-deep in mud or snow,
And you’ve been everything.
Dear, you’ve been everything that I most lack
In these soul-deadening trenches—pictures, books,
Music, the quiet of an English wood,
Beautiful comrade-looks,
The narrow, bouldered mountain-track,
The broad, full-bosomed ocean, green and black,
And Peace, and all that’s good.
poem by Robert Graves

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The Fields Of Flanders
Last year the fields were all glad and gay
With silver daisies and silver may;
There were kingcups gold by the river's edge
And primrose stars under every hedge.
This year the fields are trampled and brown,
The hedges are broken and beaten down,
And where the primroses used to grow
Are little black crosses set in a row.
And the flower of hopes, and the flowers of dreams,
The noble, fruitful, beautiful schemes,
The tree of life with its fruit and bud,
Are trampled down in the mud and the blood.
The changing seasons will bring again
The magic of Spring to our wood and plain;
Though the Spring be so green as never was seen
The crosses will still be black in the green.
The God of battles shall judge the foe
Who trampled our country and laid her low. . . .
God! hold our hands on the reckoning day,
Lest all we owe them we should repay
poem by Edith Nesbit

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The Promise Of Spring
JUST a whisper, half-heard,
But our heart knows the word;
Caresses that seem
Like love's lips in a dream;
Yet we know she is here,
The desirèd, the dear,
The love of the year!
In the murmur of boughs,
In the softening of skies,
In the sun on the house,
In the daffodil's green
(Half an inch, half-unseen
Mid the mournful brown mould
Where the rotten leaf lies)
Her story is told.
O Spring, darling Spring,
O sweet days of blue weather
The thrushes shall sing,
Fields shall grow green again,
Daisies be seen again,
Hedges grow white;
Then down the lane,
Grown leafy again,
Shall go lovers together--
Lovers who see again
Sunshine and showers,
Perfume and flowers,
Dewy dear hours,
Dream and delight.
Warm shall nests be again,
Winter's behind us;
Springtime shall find us,
Taking our hands,
Lead us away from the cold and the snow,
Into the green world where primroses grow.
Winter, hard winter, forgotten, forgiven;
All the old pain paid, to seventy times seven,
All the new glory a-glow.
Love, when Spring calls, will you still turn away?
Winter has wooed you in vain, and shall May?
Love, when Spring calls, will you go?
poem by Edith Nesbit

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The Pass Of The Sierra
ALL night above their rocky bed
They saw the stars march slow;
The wild Sierra overhead,
The desert's death below.
The Indian from his lodge of bark,
The gray bear from his den,
Beyond their camp-fire's wall of dark,
Glared on the mountain men.
Still upward turned, with anxious strain,
Their leader's sleepless eye,
Where splinters of the mountain chain
Stood black against the sky.
The night waned slow: at last, a glow,
A gleam of sudden fire,
Shot up behind the walls of snow,
And tipped each icy spire.
'Up, men!' he cried, 'yon rocky cone,
To-day, please God, we'll pass,
And look from Winter's frozen throne
On Summer's flowers and grass!'
They set their faces to the blast,
They trod the eternal snow,
And faint, worn, bleeding, hailed at last
The promised land below.
Behind, they saw the snow-cloud tossed
By many an icy horn;
Before, warm valleys, wood-embossed,
And green with vines and corn.
They left the Winter at their backs
To flap his baffled wing,
And downward, with the cataracts,
Leaped to the lap of Spring.
Strong leader of that mountain band,
Another task remains,
To break from Slavery's desert land
A path to Freedom's plains.
The winds are wild, the way is drear,
Yet, flashing through the night,
Lo! icy ridge and rocky spear
Blaze out in morning light!
Rise up, Frémont! and go before;
The Hour must have its Man;
Put on the hunting-shirt once more,
And lead in Freedom's van!
poem by John Greenleaf Whittier

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Nature's Season's
Season's come and season's go,
There are four in each year,
Of our time keeping.
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
In other parts of the world,
Their season's are called something else,
Each Season is,
Of different type,
Yet,
Two and Two,
To begin and become,
Spring shows the begining,
Of growth and new season,
So for plants,
Vegetation,
Spring Chickens,
Spring Lambs,
The Calflings,
The Fouls,
All come in the Spring,
And flourish in the Summer,
Summer shows bloom,
From the plants to the Fouls,
And all are seen in full bloom,
Even the birds and the bees,
Sing the songs,
Of spring and summer,
With the Sun's rays,
That shows nature,
In full bloom,
By the time,
All is in full bloom,
And what shows and blooms,
Blossoms all summer,
And just when we are relaxed,
And see no clouds in the sky,
The seson changes,
Beginning with,
The fall,
Autumn's,
Season,
Commences to begin,
Where,
All in bloom,
Falls away and decays,
While the rest,
Fly away,
And,
Migrate,
Or,
Hibernate,
And just when,
We have seen it all disappear,
The frost and snow,
Covers all over,
And chills the air,
Where the chilling effect,
Kills off all decay,
And the blue ice time period,
Takes over for a time,
Chilling,
Freeezing,
Keeping everything beneath the earth,
As winter sets itself right in,
And far beneath the froasted earth,
Is all in nature,
Rekindling itself,
To regrowth itself,
And then spring growth,
Again,
Next season,
That starts the circle of life,
2 x 2 = 4,
The four seasons,
Of,
Our circle of life,
Spring,
Summer,
Autumn,
Winter,
The four seasons,
Of ours,
That is 2 x 2,
Spring and Summer,
Then,
Autumn and Winter,
That makes it known,
As 4 seasons,
To us all.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain

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autumn Day
'AUTUMN DAY'
Beautiful colours whats left of the leafs,
Summer has left us winter is near
Crisp Autumn day squirrels store nuts
Light quickly fading
Low sun in the sky
Clear nights are on us
Frost quickly falls!
Children are playing in fast fading light
Night is upon us longer than day
Spring seems to be, so far away
Grass stopping growing dew on the ground
Most beautiful of seasons colder than two
Snow soon be falling,
Leafs blown away,
Gods gift to us a beautiful late Autumn day!
David Bennett.
poem by David Bennett

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Winter Wonderland
There are strange and mysterious sounds
When the winds of winter blow,
The long nights are crystal clear and cold,
And the fields and meadows are covered with snow.
The stars are frosty against the sky,
And the wind's whistle is shrill,
As the snow blows against the house
And drifts against the hill.
Yet, I like to see during the winter
A white carpet on the ground,
To plod aimlessly in the deep snow,
where deer tracks abound.
I like to feel the stillness
Of a crisp winter's night,
Watching a full moon rise over the horizon,
Exposing a winter wonderland beautiful and bright.
poem by Joseph T. Renaldi

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Unbroken cycle. for M lady Ernestine
Englyn Prost Dalgron.
Seasons come and seasons go.
Summer sun or winter snow.
That is all we need to know.
Winter is replaced by spring.
Summer ripens everything.
Autumn will the harvest bring.
When the harvests gathered in
Safely stored in box and bin
Then the winter will begin.
Nature brooks no argument.
She carries out her intent.
With or without our consent.
Spring, Summer and Autumn too.
Each has its own job to do.
Perfectly planned in my view.
Monday,11 January 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg

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Meet Me On The Mountain
I remember it well, that day last spring,
When the snow lay deep on the mountain trails.
It was winters last showin and our last fling
Before returning to our lives in the valley.
We pretended we were lost in the wilderness,
And I pretended to be your guide.
Our love was a play and you were the actress.
We were two lonely people living out a dream.
Oh, baby meet me on the mountain
When the winter is dying
And the snow lay deep on the mountain trails.
Maybe its the spring putting thoughts in our heads.
But baby meet me on the mountain
When the winter lays her head to rest.
As the morning came, the feelings faded.
They melted away with the dew.
And if it hurt, I never felt it,
cause I knew that youd be leavin me soon.
Come on, baby meet me on the mountain
When the winter is dying
And the snow lay deep on the mountain trails.
Maybe its the spring putting thoughts in our heads.
But baby meet me on the mountain
When the winter lays her head to rest.
song performed by by Reo Speedwagon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Slow Hands
Track 5 - Slow Hands
Yeah but nobody searches
Nobody cares somehow
When the loving that youve wasted
Comes raining from a hapless cloud
And I might stop and look upon your face
Disappear in the sweet, sweet gaze
See the living that surrounds me
Dissipate in a floral blaze
Cant you see what youve done to my heart
And soul?
This is a wasteland now
We spies
We slow hands
Put the weights around yourself
We spies
Oh yeah we slow hands
You put the weights all around yourself now
I submit my incentive is romance
I watched the pole dance of the stars
We rejoice cause the hurting is so painless
From the distance of passing cars
But I am married to your charms & grace
I just go crazy like the good old days
You make me want to pick up a guitar
And celebrate the myriad ways that I love you
Can you see what youve done to my heart
And soul?
This is a wasteland now
We spies
Yeah we slow hands
You put the weights around yourself
We spies
Oh yeah we slow hands
Killer, for hire you know not yourself
We spies
We slow hands
You put the weights all around yourself
We spies
Oh yeah we slow hands
We retire like nobody else
We spies
Intimate slow hands killer
For hire you know not yourself
We spies
Intimate slow hands
You let the face slap around the self
song performed by by Interpol

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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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My Dog Named Cat
Spring of life, so much like the flowers in the garden, or the leaves on The mighty oak tres, all blooming, all turning green, as days go by,
My dog and I, we used to run free together, through the fields of corn, Down the country lanes, so happy we were, me and my dog named Cat;
When rabbits crossed our path, we chased them until our lungs were about to Burst, then we'd lie there upon the ground breathing in the fresh country Air, and nowhere on earth, was there a happier place;
Summer, the body of life, when all is happening so fast it makes your head Spin, hot days, warm nights, when the sun and stars seem so very close, When maturity sets in on a child's dream on a puppy's playful days;
With work to be done now, we're still together, me and my dog Cat, side by Side we walk through the fields, our eyes still glance for a trace of that Same rabbit;
When day is done, even though we're tired, we hurry back to take up the Chase, and maybe someday soon, we'll catch old rabbit, but I know, in both Of our hearts we hope we never will;
Fall, the Autumn of life, when things slow down, when hair turns gray, and Eye sight fades, when the memories are thought of, more often;
Me and my dog Cat, still walk the fields together, our old friend the Rabbit, is still with us, Cat's bark is growing weaker, and his legs just Aren't the same;
I limp along with them, and seem to keep up somehow, but I'm sure old Cat Sometimes slows down, just for me to catch up, we watch more sunsets now From the porch, than we ever did before;
Winter, the cold and lonely time of life, when sometimes things end, oh, The snow is beautiful to see, as it falls to earth, but the old days are Gone now, gone;
Old Cat doesn't walk with me anymore, when he died my tears fell on his Grave, even old rabbit was there to say goodbye;
I'm sure old rabbit won't be with me in Spring, I suppose I'll sit by the Fire and dream of those good times, memories of me, and my dog named Cat.
poem by William W. Sloan

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Here In This spring
Here in this spring, stars float along the void;
Here in this ornamental winter
Down pelts the naked weather;
This summer buries a spring bird.
Symbols are selected from the years'
Slow rounding of four seasons' coasts,
In autumn teach three seasons' fires
And four birds' notes.
I should tell summer from the trees, the worms
Tell, if at all, the winter's storms
Or the funeral of the sun;
I should learn spring by the cuckooing,
And the slug should teach me destruction.
A worm tells summer better than the clock,
The slug's a living calendar of days;
What shall it tell me if a timeless insect
Says the world wears away?
poem by Dylan Thomas

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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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Autumn Leaves Changing Colors
As summer ends and autumn comes
Days get shorter, misty and cold
And in this spectacular season
Nature's beauty graciously unfold
Trees get ready to slow down
And in autumn take some rest
And show amazing colors of love
That are all at their best
Green fades away quickly
And yellow and orange appear
To show off their vibrant hues
And warmup their surrounding dear
Sunlight and cool nights of autumn
Help leaves to turn orangish red
And combine all things smoothly
To add magic in season's lovely bed
And all this shedding and replacement
Of leaves continue throughout the year
And trees only shed leaves in autumn
To prepare for another winter dear
This is God's spectacular display
Of beautiful colors of the fall
During which many changes occur
Including yellow, orange and red of all.
***Inspired by the changing colors of autumn in Canada.
poem by Seema Chowdhury

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Changes
Seasons may change, we stay the same.
We always stay the same.
We always stay the same.
Winter brings snow, when no, no flowers grow.
They wait for the spring.
Yes, they wait til the spring.
In the spring, young men grow.
til theyre old enough to know,
Better.
Better.
Leaves have turned green, now spring has been
And gone
Summers here.
The autumn trees swing to and fro.
Their leaves turn brown,
Now young men know
Better.
Better.
[just let me listen to that.]
Evryone one feels good
And I knew they would.
Its been quite a good year.
Its been quite a good year.
Its been quite a good year.
song performed by by Monkees

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Red House
On the wide fields the water gleams like snow,
And snow like water pale beneath pale sky,
When old and burdened the white clouds are stooped low.
Sudden as thought, or startled near bird's cry,
The whiteness of first light on hills of snow
New dropped from skiey hills of tumbling white
Streams from the ridge to where the long woods lie;
And tall ridge-trees lift their soft crowns of white
Above slim bodies all black or flecked with snow.
By the tossed foam of the not yet frozen brook
Black pigs go straggling over fields of snow;
The air is full of snow, and starling and rook
Are blacker amid the myriad streams of light.
Warm as old fire the Red House burns yet bright
Beneath the unmelting snows of pine and larch,
While February moves as slow, as slow
As Spring might never come, never come March.
Amid such snows, by generations haunted,
By echoes, memories and dreams enchanted,
Firm when dark winds through the night stamp and shout,
Brightest when time silvers the world all about,
That old house called _The Heart_ burns, burns, and still
Outbraves the mortal threat of the hanging hill.
poem by John Freeman

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The Winter Love
Such a cold was in january.
In december love had come vainly.
Winter love is short,
Obviously.
Snow is quiet falls
Down on earth.
Snow is on the streets,
Snow's in wood.
Snow in words I hear,
In your eyes, too.
Winter love is short,
Obviously.
Snow is quiet falls
Down on earth.
You are saying: 'Bye'
To me now.
And I hear your voice
Icy, round.
Winter love is short,
Obviously.
Snow is quiet falls
Down on earth.
And the oaths
are cold
In winter time.
I'll wait for long
The spring love.
Winter love is short,
Obviously.
Snow is quiet, falls
Down on earth.
poem by Robert Rozhdestvensky, translated by Lyudmila Purgina

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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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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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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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