Arrival
The first flush of Spring arrives
Tinted with fuchsia infection
Opening to fresh new attitudes
Where, as a gem, lily white brillances shines
Leaving long long behind
The chill of all the misguided shadows
Of Winters broken disfigured leaves
Where the white noise deafened
The warm rains rush the needful Earth
Given the liberty to quench its buds
Bringing forth the gorgeous perfumed air
That is so positive-that it just has to be Spring
September 22,2010
The First Day Of Fall
The Essence
poem by Theodora Onken
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Related quotes
When September Arrives, Again
September arrives and Autumn begins.
The Summer then bows to Fall.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
In New England.
September arrives,
And the sky loses brightness.
Winds start to whip...
Leaves off of trees.
I use to wonder,
Why I heard thundering...
As it rained to bring a change to things.
September seems erratic and dramatic.
Shifting as it does...
To prepare all for the Winter.
Children return to school,
As cool winds descend.
September has come back,
Again...
So quickly.
September arrives,
And Autumn begins.
The Summer then bows to Fall.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
In New England.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
When September arrived.
And Autumn began,
With winds again.
I use to think,
The leaves would cling on until Spring...
As Autumn began,
With winds again to begin.
When September arrived.
When September...
Arrived!
When September,
Arrives...
Again.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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Moon Shadows
The lily white brillance
Of the silken full moon
Engages the shadows
In the alleys of hardened goons;
Stoic but fused with crimson infection
They-the guilty hands of crime
Are disfigured from the sinners stain
Their insolence breaks open their grime;
Lurking ever deviously...
In the first flush of night
The truth-it buzzes continuosly
Compliments of the moons lily white! ;
poem by Theodora Onken
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O You Beautiful Flower
O you beautiful flower
Of pinkish and white
Earth blossoming shower
In spring’s new light
Ground is your embrace
With the sun radiance
Each bud is of grace
And splendor appearance
Light wind singing bell
Will swing your sprout
Like a sway carrousel
In its movement about
A dance of new spring
In meadows of green
To ground now sing
Of budding fresh scene
Rose-tinted so fine
Under blueness of sky
Your growth in sunshine
Now mounting so high
O you beautiful flower
Of pinkish and white
Earth sweetest endower
And spring’s delight
poem by Peter S. Quinn
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The First Of September
The morning it is breaking cloudy and gray
It does seem another cool late Winter's day
But the birds in the Parkland they whistle and sing
Believe it or not 'tis the first day of Spring
The first day of September the day of the year
When to Australia in the Southern Hemisphere
The Spring she arrives for her three months stay
With much warmer weather just a few weeks away
The Spring has arrived with her wildflowers and green
And her beauty in gardens and parks to be seen
Spring she arrives and she brings with her new life
And in parks and gardens Nature's beauty is rife
For the first day of September a cool chill in the breeze
But the birds chirp and whistle on the bushes and trees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Autumn Falling Leaves
When all have been and gone away,
Like leaves from green to amber orange,
Falling down and to decay,
Is the time for all in nature to fall,
And the leaves on the trees show it all,
Autumn and its falls of fall,
Where all the branches have dropped their leaves,
All have gone except the evergreens,
Showing signs to us that live among,
Four seasons weather,
Where Autumn is,
Just like in life,
When full circle of life is known,
A start in spring where buds appear,
Then in summer full bloom trees will be,
Hence, fall shows all,
When nature falls,
Begining another season,
Winter and chill tempetures,
Where nature decays,
And leaves do fall,
To generate again,
Renewing its life,
Come spring again,
Untill then,
Autumn sheads its leaves of blossom and blooms,
And soon again autumn begins,
From new to old,
And then old to new,
Buds in spring and leaves of green,
Showing birth from what did decayed,
And brought forth from,
What was bear on the trees,
From where beneath was where once,
Those Autumn falling leaves.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Early Works - Spring And Sweet Blossom
Winters chill is leaving;
its harshness begins to fade,
as the days grow longer.
The sun warms the air
spring is coming
sweet blossoms fill the windows.
Children noises sound lively
school bags circle the air
spring is centre forward.
Joy springs sunshine in faces
blossom tangle in hair
oh to ode spring and sweet blossom
a beginning year.
29 September 1981
poem by David Harris
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Spring has broken
Spring has broken!
Spring has broken!
Spring has broken!
I can feel it in the air,
I can feel it within me,
The rays of morning sun is warming,
The cold freezing world is now behind,
And the burst of renewals are everywhere seen,
The new buds are peeping,
And the cherry blossoms will soon be bursting,
Leave this sadness behind and breath the freshness in.
See again the birds are chirping,
and the little playful squirrels are jumping.
Spring has broken!
Spring has broken!
Spring has broken!
Again this renewal of life must begin.
poem by Spiritual Seeker
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How January Is Propelled To Spring
Chill January’s snow falls thick and fast
Propelled by blinding blizzard’s biting blast,
So soft white blankets bind the earth for days,
Though spring means drifts shall not lie long nor last.
Bleak January’s rain falls hard and long
Impelled by fierce Atlantic gales, full strong
So even mighty oaks bow in their wake
Till fury fades to calm in spring’s sweet song.
Wild January’s storms shall shed their sting,
Repelled by sun, as winter spins to spring,
So kinder, temperate breezes gently blow
To melt the snow, that all the fields can sing.
Mean January’s curse will never stay,
Dispelled by hopes of ever-lengthening day,
So gardens don spring coats of cheerful hues
As colour’s charm returns where all was grey.
Cruel January’s cloak of white shall yield,
Compelled to turn to green in springtime’s field,
So leaping lambs can clothe the hills again
And cattle quit the comfort of the bield.
Grim January’s gloom will end, by mirth
Expelled, as warmth returns to cheer the earth,
So birds will nest and leaves begin to spring
And dormant buds burst, bearing brand-new birth.
Harsh January’s coldness is compelled
To change, as dismal drabness is expelled.
Repelled by spring, impelled, the frost must flee;
So, doubts dispelled, to warmth we are propelled.
poem by C. Richard Miles
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Forward planning
Bright autumn leaves like butterflies
are gaily dancing in the breeze.
Until they fall; no more to rise
and coat the ground beneath the trees.
In carpets of rich autumn hues
Which will soon fade to neutral brown.
The time has come for trees to lose
their leaves and cast them down.
As they prepare for winters rule.
Returning to the earth again
their useless leaves to use a fuel.
Which when spring comes will help sustain.
The sudden burst of energy
that is required by every tree.
Saturday,11 September 2010
http: // blog.myspace.com/poeticpiers.
poem by Ivor Or Ivor.e Hogg
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To His Lady
(Who asked a Song in Spring)
WHY do you bid your poet sing,
Who has no mind to song--
Who only wants to see the Spring,
Long sought and tarrying long?
The shivering, dreary winter through
My song enshrined my vow;
If then my songs were sweet to you,
Let me be silent now!
Have I not duly sung, my dear,
Your goodness and your grace?
Now that your rival, Spring, is here,
O let me see her face!
The hedge is white with buds of May,
The fields are green with Spring,
Oh, give your bard a holiday:
He does not want to sing!
He wants to listen; all alone,
He wants to steal away
To hear the ring-doves' tender tone,
And what the thrushes say.
He wants to hear what can't be heard
When you and love are near--
The sweet Spring's soft and secret word;
Oh, let him go, my dear!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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It Is A Warm Day For September
It is a warm day for September around the 25 degrees
The nesting birds chirping and singing with only a very faint breeze
The Goddess of Spring in her glory the pittosporums in their grey flowers
The paddocks looking lush and greener as a result of the early Spring showers
On a blackwood tree the grey shrike thrush is whistling his voice so melodious and clear
And wildflowers bloom in woods and in paddocks Spring is such a nice time of year
A very warm day for September the sun shining in the clear sky
In the wooded park by the mountain the rosellas chirp as they fly
Such beautiful parrots to look at of mottled brown and bright crimson and blue
Better known as crimson rosellas to their given names they are true
The white backed magpies and blackbirds are piping it is such a beautiful day
And the first butterflies of the Season with brown spots on their wings white to gray
Are flying in the sunlit parkland around the blossoming trees
On this warm day for September of a high of 25 degrees.
poem by Francis Duggan
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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.
poem by John Clare
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In spring and summer winds may blow
In spring and summer winds may blow,
And rains fall after, hard and fast;
The tender leaves, if beaten low,
Shine but the more for shower and blast
But when their fated hour arrives,
When reapers long have left the field,
When maidens rifle turn'd-up hives,
And their last juice fresh apples yield,
A leaf perhaps may still remain
Upon some solitary tree,
Spite of the wind and of the rain . . .
A thing you heed not if you see.
At last it falls. Who cares? Not one:
And yet no power on earth can ever
Replace the fallen leaf upon
Its spray, so easy to dissever.
If such be love, I dare not say.
Friendship is such, too well I know:
I have enjoyed my summer day;
'Tis past; my leaf now lies below.
poem by Walter Savage Landor
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I Remember the Snows in the Summer's Light
I remember the snows in the summer's light
Thinking of winter in summer;
When I see the blue, I see white;
I see the fume over roofs so bright,
Feel the warm air caressed by azure,
I remember the snows in the summer's light.
Summers are lazy in my inner sight,
Winters, lazy on the outside, are sure to secure
The blue when I sense the cold of white.
Winter takes me on a summer's flight
To visit the summer and endure
Snows and remember the light.
Perhaps I like spring and fall best,
But winter is spring in summer to allure
Me to feel the fall and see blue in white.
I keep remembering, seeing the bright;
Everything is just a thought you conjure;
I always remember the snows hiding in the light;
When I see the blue, I also see the white.
poem by Dejan Stojanovic
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With A Little Rain
It was just another Spring storm...
Wild winds and hail---
But the bashful Sun peeked through the clouds...
And lifted-the storms blackened veil;
Raibows were brush stroked in full colour...
Painting sky canvas-filled arches of coloured light...
The air all fresh and renewed...
Lending an ambience of: 'Springtime Delight';
Proving that with every storm--
Every dropp of rain that may fall...
A renewel of Mother Earth arrives...
'Neath the Springtimes thunderous call! ;
The Essence
July 2010
poem by Theodora Onken
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Last Rose Of Summer
Throughout the soft and timeless days of august
til now the shadows begin to grow much longer
The sunsets fire has deepened blood red
I give you this, the last rose of summer
A token of my unyielding love
So when the winters mantle stills the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
Do not despair, mother nature simply rests
In sleep she has well earned
til one day not so very far from now
With the opening of the first rose buds I shall return
A token of my unyielding love
So that when winters mettle steals the earth
And all around seems dead and cold
This rose reminds you of a time when all was warm and living
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
In your long shadows
The last rose of summer
In the sunset
The last rose of summer
Take this rose that I give you
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
Dont worry about the winter
The last rose of summer
I shall return
The last rose of summer
The last rose of summer
(fade)
song performed by by Judas Priest
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Spring Brings Fresh Buds
This process has been continuous.
There is no stopping it.
I just take time to let some out.
But that act alone does not deflat it.
Whatever leaves is instantly replaced.
Much like the air is needed,
For one to breathe.
Much like a tree that grows leaves again...
After Autumn takes them.
And snow comes to sit on limbs.
But not for long.
Spring brings fresh buds.
poem by Lawrence S. Pertillar
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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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In Winter's Arms
Winter holds me with his arms of icy white,
and kissed my breath with frost upon the pane.
Subdued by touch of winter's frigid hand,
I pray for spring to find me once again.
O'wind, you whistle to the winter's tune.
Your melody is heard 'pon day and night,
but one day spring will come to rescue me,
and wisk away your song of winter's blight.
O'tree, you're frozen in the winter's dream.
Your leaves have left you 'neath a moon of white,
but when my prayers are answered 'pon spring's dawn,
you'll thaw beneath its sun with warm delight.
O'field, your harvest has been reaped and spent ~
and winter blankets you 'neath snowy mounds.
Yet one day soon in springtime's rising mist
you'll feel the greening of your earth rebound.
Winter holds me with his arms of icy white,
and kissed my breath with frost upon the pane ~
but deep within I somehow always know,
that spring will come and find me once again.
poem by Hazelmarie Elliott
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What Is Love
As the power of the sun warms the earth
Love sets the heart on fire
Like a breath of fresh air
It revives the soul
For as the warm spring rains
Wash away the last dirty snows of winter,
Love clears away old hurts,
Pain of lost love,
Bringing hope and a new begining once again
poem by David Kush
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