Spring Awoke To-Day
SPRING awoke to-day!
Somewhere--far away--
Spring awoke to-day
From the depth of dream.
Through the air bestirred
Pulse of winging bird,
Through the air bestirred
Laugh of hidden stream.
On the world's cold lips
Fell warm finger-tips;
On the world's cold lips
Woke the glow and gleam!
Spring awoke to-day!
Somewhere--far away--
Spring awoke to-day
From the depth of dream!
poem by Isabel Ecclestone Mackay

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I Did Not Know
I did not know—
And it was but a few short days ago—
How near to spring, it was; the world lay still
In all the bitter cold of winter chill;
Yet even then the May-buds with the glow
Of burning lips pressed to the melting snow
Had kissed themselves a window, to the sky,—
And spring was nigh.
I did not know—
Ah, was it such a little while ago!—
Within my heart how near it was to spring;
I did not guess the blessed blossoming,
Until this gladsome morn I woke, and lo!
Sweet with new fragrance does the whole world grow
From that so fair and snow-sprung flower dear,—
And spring is here!
poem by Abbie Farwell Brown from The New England Magazine / Volume 24, Issue 2 (1898)

Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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New Spring
Spring!
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring! How wonderful is the
Spring! How majestic is the
Spring! How fantastic is the
Spring! How tantalizing is the
Spring! How glorious is the
Spring! How melodious is the
Spring! How joyful is the
Spring! How breathtaking is the
Spring! How uplifting the
Spring! How happy is the
Spring! How magnificent is the
Spring! How colorful is the
Spring! How tasteful is the
Spring! How memorable was the
Spring! How flavorful is the
Spring! How aromic is the
Spring! How sweet is
Spring! How beautiful is the
Spring!
poem by Mario Saboundjian

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Futility
1 Move him into the sun--
2 Gently its touch awoke him once,
3 At home, whispering of fields unsown.
4 Always it awoke him, even in France,
5 Until this morning and this snow.
6 If anything might rouse him now
7 The kind old sun will know.
8 Think how it wakes the seeds--
9 Woke, once, the clays of a cold star.
10 Are limbs so dear-achieved, are sides
11 Full-nerved,--still warm,--too hard to stir?
12 Was it for this the clay grew tall?
13 --O what made fatuous sunbeams toil
14 To break earth's sleep at all?
poem by Wilfred Owen

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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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Spring Fever
(words & music by giant - baum - kaye)
A little bird, he told me so
He said come on, get on the go
Open your eyes the sky is full of butterflies
The blossoms on the trees stir up the honey bees
Spring makes my fever right
Spring fever, spring is here at last
Spring fever, my hearts beating fast
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Well if you feel the wanderlust
Just grab a car or hop a bus
In every town theres excitement to be found
So much is happening
Dont miss the joy of spring
The worlds in love just look around
Spring fever comes to everyone
Spring fever, its time for fun
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Spring fever, its spring fever time
Spring fever, watch that fever climb
Get up, get out spring is everywhere
Spring is everywhere
song performed by by Elvis Presley

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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When it will be spring
see flowers on my window
Cold winds whipping about
Soon I think
Wolves will begin to howl
When will it be spring?
Frozen days
When nature stands statue still
Cold hands, cold feet, cold heart
When will it be spring?
Haven’t heard a bird sing
The sun shines through a frozen haze
Sad days, cold days
When will it be spring?
poem by Jaya Ghosh

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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 Little I Know
When I was young, I knew it all.
The world was simple as I recall.
Things were right or wrong and black or white.
Everything was within my sight.
As I grew older the world changed,
Or maybe my thinking rearranged.
I became less apt to draw quick conclusions,
As I became aware of many confusions.
I learned to listen and think before I spoke.
Then when even older my mind awoke.
It awoke and I understood to my surprise,
Knowing how little I know can be wise.
poem by Gregory Huyette

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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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poem by Mark R Slaughter

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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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Spring Song
THE air was full of sun and birds,
The fresh air sparkled clearly.
Remembrance wakened in my heart
And I knew I loved her dearly.
The fallows and the leafless trees
And all my spirit tingled.
My earliest thought of love, and Spring's
First puff of perfume mingled.
In my still heart the thoughts awoke,
Came lone by lone together -
Say, birds and Sun and Spring, is Love
A mere affair of weather?
poem by Robert Louis Stevenson

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Was it the sun that broke my dream
Was it the sun that broke my dream
or was't the dazzle of thy hair
caught where our olden meadows seem
themselves again and yet more fair?
Ah, sun that woke me, limpid stream,
then in spring-mornings' rapture of air!
Was it the sun that broke my dream
or was 't the dazzle of thy hair?
And didst not thou beside me gleam,
brought hither by a tender care
at least my slumbering grief to share?
Are only the cold seas supreme?
Was it the sun that broke my dream?
poem by Christopher John Brennan

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Poetica
Spring is here
And I think spring is here to stay
The cold days of winter God took away
And winter is resting away for the summe
But now spring is working hard
Than when summer arrive spring will be able to rest all through the Summer
The nights are beautiful during the spring because they are mild
poem by Aldo Kraas

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Planted A Flower
I planted me a flower
Though my friends say a weed
In my garden from a forgotten seed.
So I planted it deep
And around it I hoed
So someday my flower would grow.
But my flower never came
From the sunshine or the rain
That GOD placed above its head.
And so my friends would just laugh
Every time that they would pass
My garden, my plant and I.
Gardeners were them all
As though they have been called
To bring beauty upon our sight.
And a gardener wasn't I
Just a poet in disguise
And for that reason I sat and cried.
More care to my plant I gave
And more affection to it I showed.
While praying one day my flower would grow.
And my friends would just laugh at me
When they saw me on my knees
And to my flower when they heard me speak.
To ignorance they did blame
Its a weed they would exclaim
Then they would walk away.
For a madman I must be
Trying to create a flower out of a weed
Then I would bow my head to weep.
And every night that I went to bed
I dreamt of a rainbow in my head
Which was my flower I planted with my own hands.
And every morning when I awoke
I ran to my garden, but I was torn
For my flower was still unborn.
And I could hear my friends laugh at me
Hidden behind an old oak tree
And I could see them shake their heads and walk away.
But then came one magic morning
When in my head my dreams were forming
While in my garden, my dream, had awoke.
I awoke, to gasps and jeers
I arose, to shouts and cheers
Then in my garden, I walked in bitterness and fear.
Then I saw a rainbow with a halo
I saw my friends with a child's glow
And then I heard the wind, as she softly spoke to me.
You had faith in a weed,
A weed, had faith in you.
And nature, had faith in you two.
Randy L. McClave
poem by Randy McClave

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A Song Of Spring
The Spring comes slowly up this way,
Slowly, slowly,
Under a snood of hodden grey.
The black and white for her array,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where is her green that was so gay?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Unto a world too sick for May,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
Where are the lads that used to play?
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
She has no heart for holiday,
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up this way.
The trees are out in Heaven they say.
Slowly, slowly,
The Spring comes slowly up our way.
poem by Katharine Tynan

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The Lure Of Spring
As I walked out one brave spring morn,
When earth was young and new,
I met a laughing mountain maid
As fresh as mountain dew.
Oh, blow you breezes; shine, you sun!
For this the world was well begun.
And spring's soft promise, lifted high,
Shone wattle gold against blue sky.
As I walked with her that spring morn
I sought her brave young eyes,
And to earth's olden mysteries
I straightway read replies.
Oh, yearn you, gum-tips to the sun!
For this the world was well begun.
And mysteries thronged about us now
As green buds swelled upon the bough.
I have walked out on many a Spring
Since that long-vanished day;
But aught of that ill-treasured lore
Recapture no man may.
Yet, laugh you, young grass to the sun!
For that the world was well begun.
And every bird-song gladly sung
Still whispers secrets to earth's young.
As I walk out this brave spring morn,
And man and maid I see
By some green way, I thank kind life
That gave one Spring to me.
Oh, blow you breezes; shine you sun!
For this the world was well begun:
That spring holds for young lovers yet
Deeps secret that the old forget.
poem by Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis

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Spring Is Here
(rodgers & hart)
Once there was a thing called spring
When the world was writing
Verses like yours and mine
All the boys and girls would sing
As we sat at little tables and drank may wine
Now april, may and june
Seem sadly out of tune
Life has stuck a pin in the balloon
Spring is here, why doesnt my heart go dancing
Spring is here, why isnt the waltz entrancing
No desire, no ambition leads me
Maybe its because nobody needs me
Spring is here, why doesnt the breeze delight me
Stars appear, why doesnt the night invite me
Maybe its because nobody loves me
Spring is here
Spring is here
Spring is here
I hear
song performed by by Carly Simon

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Young Laughters, and My Music!
Young laughters, and my music! Aye till now
The voice can reach no blending minors near;
'Tis the bird's trill because the spring is here
And spring means trilling on a blossomy bough;
'Tis the spring joy that has no why or how,
But sees the sun and hopes not nor can fear--
Spring is so sweet and spring seems all the year.
Dear voice, the first-come birds but trill as thou.
Oh music of my heart, be thus for long:
Too soon the spring bird learns the later song;
Too soon a sadder sweetness slays content
Too soon! There comes new light on onward day,
There comes new perfume o'er a rosier way:
Comes not again the young spring joy that went.
poem by Augusta Davies Webster

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A Salute To Spring...Spring Time The Best Time
Spring in my step
Spring in the air
Spring!
Spring!
Lingering everywhere.
Spring fever to follow,
But I don't care,
Spring, for new journeys,
I'll meet you there!
Where?
By the garden gate,
You silly thing,
It's an invitation to frolic
So let's begin to sing.
It's Spring!
Written first day of Spring 2010
Dorothy Alves Holmes
A Poet Who Loves To Sing
poem by Dorothy Holmes

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Spring Sunshine
After all the chills and winter blues,
The staying warm and staying in,
Meetings indoors for outside is cold,
Then comes the spring sunshine,
The sun breaks in like a door open wide,
With the burst of sunlight,
That lasting and warm,
Bringing smiles back on peoples faces,
While in the chilling season it brings,
Us all to hibernate and stay in,
Not getting out much as weather is cold,
Until the spring sunshine brings us back outdoors,
It is the time for new growth,
It is the time for new beginnings,
It is the time for buds to bloom,
It is the time for nature to sound its sounds of nature again,
For all the while when we shelter from the chills,
Winter is chilling,
And springs getting ready,
For all the new beginnings,
Brought forth from the old,
Of last seasons blossoms,
Spring will bring new growth from its roots,
And bloom again with spring sunshine rays,
Spring will start again,
And a new year to begin it with,
That starts with first,
The spring sunshine,
Of first days of spring,
That brings the smile back,
To all our faces,
With warm sun rays,
Of spring sunshine.
poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain

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