mid april morning
bees attend to blooming trees
dogwood blossoms blush
haiku by Richard Terrify
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The Blossoms On The Trees
Blossoms crimson, white, or blue,
Purple, pink, and every hue,
From sunny skies, to tintings drowned
In dusky drops of dew,
I praise you all, wherever found,
And love you through and through--;
But, Blossoms On The Trees,
With your breath upon the breeze
There's nothing all the world around
As half as sweet as you!
Could the rhymer only wring
All the sweetness to the lees
Of all the kisses clustering
In juicy Used-to-bes,
To dip his rhymes therein and sing
The blossoms on the trees--,
'O Blossoms on the Trees,'
He would twitter, trill, and coo,
'However sweet, such songs as these
Are not as sweet as you--:
For you are blooming melodies
The eyes may listen to!'
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Portofino Sounds So Far Away!
It is the story of nights
When love somnoles for a while
While near the window, a dogwood tree
Blossoms in white, in flowers, in time
It is the story well known
When I hold your hand
To stay where we are, or just
To stay
For with time, between two kisses
Suddenly, love leaves for a while
In lavender, in tears, in promises
All goes, between two kisses
On an August night
It is the story others only know
The story which, with time, becomes ours
Between two goodbyes, at a train station
On an October night
And, as I look back
To the times we never had, alone,
To the fears that kept us up, alone,
After a promise was shared, alone,
I smile. For it is the story
I was told when young
When date trees grew near
Fig trees, and when high tide
Brought the bluest sea to our door
When we were told that with time
All goes, between two dogwood white petals
Falling
Or when in your eyes I lost
The times we never had
Alone
October 31,2008
poem by Vahe Kazandjian
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To a Very Young Lady
Sweetest bud of beauty, may
No untimely frost decay
Th' early glories which we trace
Blooming in thy matchless face:
But kindly opening, like the rose,
Fresh beauties every day disclose,
Such as by Nature are not shown
In all the blossoms she has blown:
And then, what conquest shall you make,
Who hearts already daily take!
Scorch'd in the morning with thy beams,
How shall we bear those sad extremes
Which must attend thy threat'ning eyes
When thou shalt to thy noon arise?
poem by Sir George Etherege
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Joy Of Spring
A Spring morning
A warm Breeze
doves cooing softly
Pollen dusted trees
A few brave violets
A red streaked dawn
A very early robin
Earthworms in the lawn
Spring peeper frogs
Smell of dogwood blossoms
Nature’s petroglyphs in muddy bogs
Footprints left by possums
Easter eggs and bonnets
Chocolate rabbits, Missing ears
Jelly beans and sonnets
Spilled easter baskets, children’s tears
Parades,
leafy bowers
Lemonades
Spring showers
Spring mornings
Warm breezes
Deep breaths
Allergic sneezes
Smell of Fresh blossoms
Sound of birds as they sing
Joy of life.. joy of being…
…Joy of Spring
poem by David Whalen
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The Bee-Boy's Song
Bees! Bees! Hark to your bees!
"Hide from your neigbours as much as you please,
But all that has happened, to us you must tell,
Or else we will give you no honey to sell!"
A maiden in her glory,
Upon her wedding - day,
Must tell her Bees the story,
Or else they'll fly away.
Fly away -- die away --
Dwindle down and leave you!
But if you don't deceive your Bees,
Your Bees will not deceive you.
Marriage, birth or buryin',
News across the seas,
All you're sad or merry in,
You must tell the Bees.
Tell 'em coming in an' out,
Where the Fanners fan,
'Cause the Bees are just about
As curious as a man!
Don't you wait where the trees are,
When the lightnings play,
Nor don't you hate where Bees are,
Or else they'll pine away.
Pine away -- dwine away --
Anything to leave you!
But if you never grieve your Bees,
Your Bees'll never grieve you.
poem by Rudyard Kipling
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The Twins
One 's the pictur' of his Pa,
And the _other_ of her Ma--
Jes the bossest pair o' babies 'at a mortal ever saw!
And we love 'em as the bees
Loves the blossoms of the trees,
A-ridin' and a-rompin' in the breeze!
One's got her Mammy's eyes--
Soft and blue as Apurl-skies--
With the same sort of a smile, like--Yes,
and mouth about her size,--
Dimples, too, in cheek and chin,
'At my lips jes _wallers_ in,
A-goin' to work, er gittin' home agin.
And the _other_--Well, they say
That he's got his Daddy's way
O' bein' ruther soberfied, er ruther extry gay,--
That he either cries his best,
Er he laughs his howlin'est--
Like all he lacked was buttons and a vest!
Look at _her_!--and look at _him_!--
Talk about yer 'Cheru-_bim_!'
Roll 'em up in dreams together, rosy arm and chubby limb!
O we love 'em as the bees
Loves the blossoms of the trees,
A-ridin' and a-rompin' in the breeze!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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Blooming
Spring already
Flowers blooming
Birds humming
Sing their sweet
Sweet song
The air
Full of blossoms
Blooming flowers..
Blooming plants…
Blooming love
Spring is clean..
Spring is fresh…
Spring is that new beginning
We pray for in the end
poem by Alexsis Daniels
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When The Green Gits Back In The Trees
In spring, when the green gits back in the trees,
And the sun comes out and stays,
And yer boots pulls on with a good tight squeeze,
And you think of yer barefoot days;
When you ort to work and you want to not,
And you and yer wife agrees
It's time to spade up the garden lot,
When the green gits back in the trees--
Well! work is the least o' _my_ idees
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!
When the green gits back in the trees, and bees
Is a-buzzin' aroun' agin,
In that kind of a lazy go-as-you-please
Old gait they bum roun' in;
When the groun's all bald where the hay-rick stood,
And the crick 's riz, and the breeze
Coaxes the bloom in the old dogwood,
And the green gits back in the trees,--
I like, as I say, in sich scenes as these,
The time when the green gits back in the trees!
When the whole tail-feathers o' wintertime
Is all pulled out and gone!
And the sap it thaws and begins to climb,
And the sweat it starts out on
A feller's forred, a-gittin' down
At the old spring on his knees--
I kind o' like jes' a-loaferin' roun'
When the green gits back in the trees--
Jes' a-potterin' roun' as I--durn--please--
When the green, you know, gits back in the trees!
poem by James Whitcomb Riley
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April's Away.
All too soon the countryside,
Now fresh greened and sprouting more
Than spring, looks out for wider
Room, shakes it's newborn blossoms
Then ushers April to the door.
And April's away.
No longer teenage, Flora's
Grown maturer now, slightly
Deeper hued, flowers adorning
Every late spring bough, while
April, already pale, turns white,
Then April's away.
Heated by more ardent sun,
Hedgerows must have stronger feed.
Palid from work early done
April leaves, - makes way for May
To ensure Flora has her needs
Now April's away.
Spring comes only once.
The spring strikes; the trees blossom.
Bees swam and the trees bloom.
The autumn strikes; the trees shed.
Bees are nowhere around the trees.
Spring comes to woman only once
That she must enjoy without a miss.
26.11.2010
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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Bridegroom
Sheltering beneath the trees
bees buzzing
benevolence
tiny white papery blossoms
confetti-like
falling down on me
but who is the bridegroom
and where is he?
poem by Gillian Commerford
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Its Morning
Its morning
Sun rising
Moon hiding
Birds chirping
Flowers blooming
Eyes opening
Many waking
Many sleeping
Dew on the leaves
Evaporating
Bees humming
Church bell ringing
Silence going
Noise increasing
Life keeps moving
Like ever before
Night or morning
Same story again
poem by Nirantar Dr.Rajendra Tela
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And blooming
Blooming blooming
You are blooming.
You are white tulip
You are tube rose
You are passiflora
You are mutabilis
You are marigold
And what not
What not you are.
Your world
Wonderful world
I am
With You
You are blooming
Blooming blooming
And blooming.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Morning breeze
Sun shine enters followed by
Cool breeze through the window,
Kingdom of sleep comes to end
Some string pulls head from pillow.
Feel of morning cool breeze
touching the body, soul wakes.
Thunder of memories of night cooled
on flow of dreams, putting brake.
Trees have worked whole night
now singing lullaby before go to rest.
Leaves are swaying and dancing
as some one shaking holding hands.
Reach passing through woods, orchards
mountains, sea and meadows
with sweet, salty, whiffed cool touch
wane blossoms and faces glow.
Blooming blossoms swaying say
good morning to kissing sun rays.
Whispering breeze performs prayer
in the temples and the churches.
Chirping birds swing their wings
to welcome and embrace the breeze.
Celestial cool touch pierce the soul
thoughts for a while freeze.
(C) S. D. Tiwari
poem by S.D. Tiwari
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Spring is...
Pastel blue eggs in robin’s nest
Spring breeze blows softly from the west
Kneading ripples on languid lake
Teasing rain for greening fields to slake
Pregnant buds on Dogwood trees
Future forage for yet unborn bees
More days of warmth, less days of cold
More fields of green, less fields of gold
Frogs emerge from hibernation
Black eyes gaping wide in fascination
At dragonflies with iridescent wings
At fiery colours, incandescent things
Tadpoles, crawdads, Mayflies, midges
Spider eggs, baby bats, neath rusty rural bridges
Stunningly silent explosion of beauty,
Blossoms and fragrances, intoxicatingly fruity
Such an extraordinary, yet ordinary thing
Uncommonly common… season of Spring
poem by David Whalen
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April
Puzzling dialogues grow facile,
April is a month of dates,
The cherry-plum blossoms in April,
And for the love it happily waits.
The maiden has a date in April,
Her heart is full of adoration…
O spring! Just you hold me back,
Or else, I’d have left the Creation.
poem by Tsira Gogeshvili
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Date of birth
Third April is
My date of birth
I do not agree
And you to agree.
And you observed
Third April as
My date of birth
I did not attend.
Third April
Is not actual
As you think
My day of birth.
It is correct to say
I have not taken any
Birth at any time
And assume I have no death.
Third April is
Just is imaginary
I am not you to think
Think and act accordingly.
poem by Gajanan Mishra
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Tuvvi Tuvvi
SERENADING THE SEASON OF SPRING WITH SMILES
ARE THE BIRDS SINGING MELODY OF TUVVI TUVVI
DANCING TO THE BEAUTY OF BLOOMING DAFFODILS
ARE THE LEAVES IN THE WIND WHISTLING TUVVI TUVVI
USHERING THE WARM SUNSHINE OF THE SPRING
ARE THE WALTZING SHADOWS SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
BORDERING THE GREEN GRASS ALL AROUND BEAMING
ARE THE SWAYING TREES SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
WELCOMING THE BRIGHT SPRING IS THE BEAUTIFUL MORNING
REFLECTING ITS LIGHT ON FLOWING STREAMS OF SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
SEEING THE SIGNS OF NEW LIFE PRAISING
ARE THE GRATEFUL HEARTS SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
BLOOMING ARE THE FLOWERS IN SPRING COLORS
INVITING THE BEES BUZZING TUVVI TUVVI
FILLING THIS WORLD WITH SWEET SOUNDS OF LAUGHTER
ARE THE CHILDREN SINGING TUVVI TUVVI
Transalation of Poem by KUVEMPU
poem by Mittur Ramprasad
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Fruitless blossom
There were women at different ages
At different stages, with different shades,
Responsible for my springs and blossoms.
They remained as blossoms and withered.
Trees send blossoms in every spring and
Fruits later, though less in proportion.
Women of mine gave me only blossoms
Which fed my nose and left my stomach.
19.12.2000, Pmdi
poem by Rm. Shanmugam Chettiar
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An April Morning
The morning awakes
with a cloudless sky
with the air cool and fresh
that you go outside
and sit a while
in the refreshing air
of an April morning.
The sun greets the morning
with its warming rays
and much promise of a lovely day.
You breathe in deeply
the nectar of life,
of this fresh air
of an April morning.
poem by David Harris
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