Spring's Sonnet
The golden dust of the sad moon,
Sifts musical notes all around,
I listen to this simple tune,
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.
White angels play the violin,
The yellow birds sing a new song,
The party's on, the fun begins,
Red flowers smiling, come along.
Blue butterflies dancing with me,
Old stars come down to kiss the earth,
New silver bells ring... Victory!
Snowdrops announce the new Spring birth.
Cherry blossom rise in splendor,
As the winter slow surrender!
poem by Marius Alexandru (March 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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Related quotes
Spring's Sonnet
The golden dust of the sad moon,
Sifts musical notes all around,
I listen to this simple tune,
Amazing Grace, how sweet the sound.
White angels play the violin,
The yellow birds sing a new song,
The party’s on, the fun begins,
Red flowers smiling, come along.
Blue butterflies dancing with me,
Old stars come down to kiss the earth,
New silver bells ring… Victory!
Snowdrops announce the new Spring birth.
Cherry blossom rise in splendor,
As the winter slow surrender!
poem by Marius Alexandru (2 February 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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Cherry blossom rise
Cherry blossom rise
Snowdrops announce the Spring's birth
Winter slow resigns
haiku by Marius Alexandru (February 2020)
Submitted by anonym
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Slow Dancing With The Moon
Sweet little cherry blossom, blooming before her time
Moving her lips to her favorite song, cherishing every rhyme
Swaying her hips to the rhythm, humming along with the tune
Lost in her own little dream world, slow dancing with the moon
Watching her I cannot help but go back in my mind
And suddenly I find I am 15 again
Slow dancing with the moon
Oh, the stars got in my eyes long time ago
And Ive lived my life like a love sick clown
In a bittersweet cartoon
Just a dreamy-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
Watching the girl Im reminded shes quite a lot like me
Trapped in the suburbs of wonderland, lost in her own fantasy
Somehow my heart never grew up, no one ever burst my balloon
So here I am swirling in star dust slow dancing with the moon
Still believe someday my wildest dreams will all come true
And Ill find someone wholl make me 15 again
But until then Im slow dancing with the moon
Oh, the stars got in my eyes long time ago
And Ive lived my life like a love sick clown
In a bittersweet cartoon
Just a dreamy-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
Tag:
Still a starry-eyed kid slow dancing with the moon
song performed by by Dolly Parton
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Alankar (Decor) -6
I Want To Sing A Song
I want to sing a song
For long my wish on skies..
So high so far so sweet
So sweet my song so makes
And takes on notes me soar
Me soar to moon and stars
To stars and moon my notes
Happy going going
Going godly tuning
Tuning moving scaling
Scaling music tonic
Tonic songful soulful
Soulful spaceward tuneful
Harken, follow would you..
You sing you sing a song
A song so strong to gong
To gong in tune with mine
So mine and yours to sing
To sing the moon and stars
The stars and moon in tune
In tune with us so high
poem by Indira Renganathan
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Bird’s Song
Swim through oceans of air
Birds keep time up there
And spend their days winging
Through forests of clouds, singing
Hymns of nature’s style
Fluttering away all the while
Dancing with angels in the sky
Dancing, dancing as they fly
Through fields of blue
Just to sing their song for you.
Mountains of clouds all about
Saviors in times of drought
Gather up the tears you cry
Into your reservoir in the sky
And listen to the birds sing
Listen for the song in everything
From the forests to the sea
From the bird to the bee
Listen and the song is there
Nature sings everywhere.
The sun rejoices each new day
But it rises in the usual way
To wake up the world with beams of light
And to conquer the darkness of night
But still the birds sing their song
A tribute to the day that’s long
And travel through fields of blue
Just to sing their song for you
And then when all has gone away
They’ll sing for you some other day.
poem by Jamie Collins
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Granny's Angel
In my grand baby world she
Dream of pink butterflies and
Angel with golden wings playing
And singing sweet lullabies
She dream of sweet sugar plums
And lollipops dancing around her
Head
She dream of fairies, white doves
And pink butterflies
With wings tips of gold
Gold and silver dust sprinkling
Down as they open their wings
She dream of little fairies tickling
Little feet
Her joy shows as her laughter cries
Out
Bouncing around with little fairies
Playing and singing sweet lullabies
Her eyes of blue, as deep as the sky
Looking up at the golden half moon
Hanging so high
Stars of silver and golden threads flickers
Durning the night
Unicorns and fairies playing in a
Field of clovers
With pink ribbons and bows
She dreams of pink butterflies as she lay
In her crib sleeping
Dreaming of sweet nothings
Fairies, butterflies and little
Angels with unicorns in her world
As she sleeps in her little world
Where fantasy is true
Her little sisters and brothers
All angels in heavens
Where her world is all but a beautiful
Dream
As she grow and flourish to be a wife
A mother
And tell her stories to her children in
The future
Dedicated To My Grand Baby Miya
poem by Carolyn Sears
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Spring Begins (Terza Rima Sonnet)
I hear the music, magic all around,
the little birds are singing in my dreams,
ah, how I missed this pleasant, joyful sound.
I feel the freshness of the crystal streams.
White snowdrops gently say the Spring is here.
Through puffy clouds, the sun so happy gleams,
the rain has stopped; the sky is blue and clear.
Pink tulips wake up early from the snow,
Spring is indeed the best time of the year.
The gardens missed the old romantic glow.
Blue angels dance; the world in wonder spins.
The Winter cries. She's sad and has to go.
She shows, last time, her irritated grins;
The Spring has won again the Spring begins!
poem by Marius Alexandru (February 2022)
Submitted by anonym
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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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Ring Out, Solstice Bells
Now is the solstice of the year,
Winter is the glad song that you hear.
Seven maids move in seven time.
Have the lads up ready in a line.
Ring out these bells.
Ring out, ring solstice bells.
Ring solstice bells.
Join together beneath the mistletoe.
By the holy oak whereon it grows.
Seven druids dance in seven time.
Sing the song the bells call, loudly chiming.
Ring out these bells.
Ring out, ring solstice bells.
Ring solstice bells.
Praise be to the distant sister sun,
Joyful as the silver planets run.
Seven maids move in seven time.
Sing the song the bells call, loudly chiming.
Ring out those bells.
Ring out, ring solstice bells.
Ring solstice bells.
Ring on, ring out.
Ring on, ring out.
song performed by by Jethro Tull
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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The Primrose (Novelinee)
Quite early in spring it is flowering,
delicate flowers on an erect stem
while all the birds in excitement sing,
at the beginning of spring I see them,
there is something in its simple beauty,
drawing big butterflies that do flutter,
is given in love, respect and duty,
in the colour of yellow-white butter,
bringing sweet words that other can utter.
poem by Gert Strydom
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Something About The Girl Called Spring (Sonnet Corona)
I
Just after winter you are back enchanting
with unfolding blossoms on hot sunny days
playing your roles in all your beautiful ways
as if every day is a grand setting
with colours and smells alluring, inviting
man, animals and insects to stray
in orchards, gardens and in the veldt to play
wherever you may be wandering
while insects and birds sing sweet melodies,
even the breeze is charming
in the season that you bequeath
that becomes a time of sweet memories
while everywhere life is swarming;
flowers are as fragrant as your breath.
II
Flowers are as fragrant as your breath
and outside the sun does shine
where flowers and insects ephemeral awaits death
living just as small specs of the will divine.
There are tales about flowers and butterflies that you tell,
about all the minute things, before the first shadows fall
but you have to mention the Creator as well
who fathered everything, created all.
His gardens fill the earth in sheer exuberance
while in summer and spring, in daylight hours
bees, butterflies and birds dance
around the fragrant flowers
in their winged flight,
from early twilight.
III
From early twilight
you are everywhere sent
until the dark night
for the whole world’s enjoyment
and flowering fair
you dance along
without a moment to spare
singing a cheerful song
as a seasonal creature being sweet,
dressed very serene
dancing with fairly like feet
as the essence of the productive machine
and nature everywhere tells,
spring is awaking in smells.
IV
Spring is awaking in smells
with birds singing
rising from the valleys and dells,
sounding in joy about the beauty she is bringing
even every bird, deer and bee,
as the blessings have come
as a time of tranquillity to some
until all of nature is happy and free
when love is finally finding its home
and spring is especially dear to me,
in the air above there’s a vibrant hue
as if it’s a living kind of blue
specked with flocks of birds in their flight;
spring is dressed in white.
V
Spring is dressed in white,
dressed for her wedding day,
when she blesses wherever her flowers stray
in celebration in every day and night
while she dances from early morning light
inviting all her guests, the birds and bees to play,
while she lingers everything is gay
in colours jubilant and bright
with butterflies filling the air,
humming yellow and black bees,
even joined by flying birds that in joy sing
roaming among the almond, peach and pear,
flying to and fro from the blue gum trees
in the unfolding of spring.
VI
In the unfolding of spring
it came to my mind
the words, the deeds and every thing,
of the troublesome kind
that man does to his fellow human beings
as if he is inclined
to act only to his own interest without any feelings,
as if so designed
but around me the new awakenings
are totally unrestrained
in days and evenings
with beauty that is gained
while everywhere flowers are rising,
I long for an eternal spring’s blessing.
VII
I long for an eternal spring’s blessing
as if the Godly plan
in a place where everything is living,
is still in effect for man,
where the songs of birds through the hubbub ring
as if the singing birds are right here
bringing pleasure to everything
making existing so sweet and sincere,
as if from the very beginning
the Lord God was near,
even before human beings were sinning
when these joyous songs fall on the ear:
.
with all of the love that God is granting,
just after winter you are back enchanting.
poem by Gert Strydom
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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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A Sweet Song Of Love
Listen to this sweet song of love,
a different love song of our strife.
The victory of truth in life,
listen to this sweet song of love....
Walking together in our dreams where have we reached,
just look how blue is the sky here.
Our song is even sung by the birds here,
where ever our eyes can see is pure light spread.
Listen to this sweet song of love,
a different love song of our strife.
The victory of truth in life,
listen to this sweet song of love....
Cool cool breezes blow here always,
beyond the stars is our little cottage.
The rainbow colours are here to manage,
they where they commence their journeyof joys.
Listen to this sweet song of love,
a different love song of our strife.
The victory of truth in life,
listen to this sweet song of love....
Forbidden to meet each other in this world,
encircled within our customs were we both.
imprisoned and guarded were we both,
we died in breaking away from the customs of this world.
Listen to this sweet song of love,
a different love song of our strife.
The victory of truth in life,
listen to this sweet song of love....
poem by Renu Kakkar
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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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Echoes Of Spring
I.
I WALK about in driving snow,
And drizzling rain, splashed o'er and o'er;
No sign that radiant spring e'en now
Stands at the threshold of the door.
No sign that fragrant violets burn
To burst the ground and quicken forth;
No sign that swallow flights return,
To gladden all the serious north.
But in my breast--what flutterings here!
What bursts of song! what twitt'rings blest!
Sure the first swallow of the year
Within my heart has built her nest.
II.
Oft on the gleaming April days,
When skies are soft, and winds are warm,
And in the air a subtle charm,
And on the hill a flight of rays;
When silver clouds slide through the blue,
Spreading a pure, transparent wing,
And all the budding branches ring
With blithesome birds, that warbling woo;
Beneath a pear tree's shade I lay,
Deep bedded in the long thick grass,
And heard the twitt'ring swallow pass,
And grasshoppers at endless play.
I knew, though flowers mine eyes did screen,
That butterflies danced in the light;
For, breaking sunbeams in their flight,
They flashed their shadows on the green.
And gazing up, in dreamful ease,
Where quiv'ring frail on shivery sprays,
The blossoms mix a milky maze,
What hum of golden-girted bees!
So lily-white, the tree, behold,
Seems set on fire by burnished lights,
And shoal on honeying shoal alights,
And turns the snowy boughs to gold.
Thus on my spirit--music-fraught,
Burst swarms of glimm'ring melodies,
And like the yellow-banded bees,
Make honey of my flutt'ring thought.
III.
Sometimes on my soul will throng
Such a blossom-burst of song,
That I cannot seize it all,
Letting sweetest measures fall.
Thus a child feels--sudden sunk
On a crowding violet bank,
And delighted and amazed,
Gathers in a flushèd haste.
Gathers them so fast and fleet,
Little fingers cannot meet
O'er the lot; and swifter still
Than they cull, the wealth they spill.
To that sweets o'erflooded nook,
Casting back one longing look,
At the last it takes away
But one little odorous spray.
Yet through many a day and night,
Flinging back the fragrant sight,
Cleaves to face, and hands, and feet,
All the woodland's violets sweet.
IV.
Fain would I sing of each sweet sight and sound,
Of fleeting odours wheeling round and round,
Of sunbeams dancing on the virgin grass,
Of flocks of fleecy clouds that glimmer as they pass.
Of larks, that lost in the blue ether float,
Of the weird blackbird's dream--enchanted note!
While the glad hedges palpitate with song,
That drops like murm'ring rain the dewy fields among.
Of blooming bushes and of budding trees,
Of flaming flowers, dotting the grassy leas,
Of glowing pools and of the babbling rills,
That flash through azure mists, slumb'ring on folded hills.
Fain would I sing, sweet April-time, of thee,
And mingle in thy wantonness of glee;
But thou such overwealth of sweets dost fling,
My heart is all too full, too full to speak or sing.
V.
There's somewhat in the loveliness of spring,
In the young light, and in the fragrant bloom,
In the sweet song that each soft breeze doth wing,
In the bright flowers that rise from earth's dark womb;
Which fills with sadness the presentient mind,
And for a far-off home awakes the sigh;
Which makes us gaze, with longings undefined,
On dim blue hills, and weep--we know not why.
VI.
Oh, birds, winged voices! children of the light!
Whose song is love, whose love is melody;
Shedding o'er hedge, and field, and bush, and tree,
Your tuneful joy and musical delight,
Making the air, the earth, the heavens bright;
Melodious, tender, sad and gay and free;
By all these gifts true poets born are ye;
Love circumscribes alone your restless flight.
Poets, I say? Ah, not like poets here,
That wander forth alone, companionless;
Whose lays are wrung from them by care and pain;
Who sing, while blinded by the hot salt tear.
Not such are ye; but free from all distress,
Ye, with the sunlight, range o'er land and main.
VII.
Oh, soft sweet air of early spring,
Again thou float'st on viewless wing,
Coax'st snowdrops their white bells to ring,
And wak'st the blackbird up to sing.
Again, upon the bright'ning lea,
Beneath the budding bursting tree,
The toddling baby-mites I see,
Skip, jump, and frisk in lamb-like glee.
But I am sad, I know not why;
My breast heaves with the long-drawn sigh;
The tear rounds slowly in mine eye;
I'd like to lay me down and die.
VIII.
The blooming hedge, the budding grove,
Resound with notes of joy and love;
The gleaming bush, the glimm'ring tree,
Live with a dewy melody.
Along the meadows, flashing bright,
Run trills of shrill and sweet delight;
E'en the small snowy clouds among,
Gush showers on showers of silver song.
But thou, my heart, oh, tell me why
Hast thou no language but a sigh?
IX.
Like a flower-fall of rain,
Like a snowy elfin train,
Like stray gleams of moonlight fair,
Do you shift upon the air,
Do you flutter on the breeze,
Do you fall upon the leas,
Blossoms of the apple-trees;
Then on earth's bosom slow ye fade away,
Like to a low and sweetly dying lay.
X.
With thousand gaps the earth is split,
By sunbeams wounded o'er and o'er,
My heart, it acheth bit by bit;
Life's heat and dust have made it sore.
When wilt thou fall from clouds above,
In silver showers, refreshing rain?
When wilt thou come, reviving love,
With dew, and make me whole again?
A little while, big drops will slake,
Oh, earth, thy thirst's hot agony;
But till my fevered heart doth break,
Will solace ever come to me?
poem by Mathilde Blind
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In The Prime Of September
The paddocks looking yellow where the capeweed does bloom
And bright golden flowers on the gorse and the broom
And the flute of the shrike thrush is pleasant to hear
In the prime of September in the Spring of the year
At this time of year the musical magpies they sing day and night
How pleasant to hear them piping in the moonlight
And blackbird by his voice you cannot get wrong
He welcomes the dawn of the day with a song
Frisky lambs in the paddocks are frolicking about
When the Goddess of Spring is in the Land of the south
The laughter of the kookaburra the call of the weerloo
The big dark brown bird better known as yellow tail black cockatoo
Fruit bearing trees in blossom and nesting birds sing
In the prime of September in the southern Spring.
poem by Francis Duggan
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Ocean Song
Sing a little song,
Just an itty bitty ditty,
About the rolling boom
Of the ocean’s lull and gloom.
Sing a little song,
Hum a simple tune,
That reminds you of the sea
And all that she may be.
Sing a little song,
Tap an unknown beat,
To sway the stars above
And steal the ocean from her love.
Sing a little song,
A sweeter melody.
Let’s coax the waves to shore -
Inspiring new lore.
Sing a little song,
Create some fancy notes,
That tempt the moon to land,
And we’ll dance on golden sand.
Sing a little song,
Drum an unheard rhythm,
About the sea’s unending keen
And all that she has seen.
Sing a little song,
A peaceful lullaby,
That speaks of pleasant ages
And soothes the ocean’s rages.
poem by Robin Shuler
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A Child's Laughter
ALL the bells of heaven may ring,
All the birds of heaven may sing,
All the wells on earth may spring,
All the winds on earth may bring
All sweet sounds together---
Sweeter far than all things heard,
Hand of harper, tone of bird,
Sound of woods at sundawn stirred,
Welling water's winsome word,
Wind in warm wan weather,
One thing yet there is, that none
Hearing ere its chime be done
Knows not well the sweetest one
Heard of man beneath the sun,
Hoped in heaven hereafter;
Soft and strong and loud and light,
Very sound of very light
Heard from morning's rosiest height,
When the soul of all delight
Fills a child's clear laughter.
Golden bells of welcome rolled
Never forth such notes, nor told
Hours so blithe in tones so bold,
As the radiant mouth of gold
Here that rings forth heaven.
If the golden-crested wren
Were a nightingale---why, then,
Something seen and heard of men
Might be half as sweet as when
Laughs a child of seven.
poem by Algernon Charles Swinburne
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The Beauty of Spring
The Beauty of Spring
I am looking out of a glass window.
I see a group of cherry blossom trees in the distance.
Nearby, there is a quaint little house.
This magnificence takes my breathe away.
The Beauty of Spring.
Daffodils are blooming.
Butterflies are fluttering through the air.
Robins are singing there beautiful song.
The world is coming back to life after a long winter.
The Beauty of Spring.
A gentle breeze skims across my face.
I inhale the sweet scent of flowers.
I see a world of gorgeous and vivid colors.
I absolutely love spring.
The Beauty of Spring.
I am Taking in The Beauty of Spring
poem by Bleeding Heart
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Spring Song III
HERE'S the Spring-time, Sweet!
Earth's green gown is new,
Lambs begin to bleat,
Doves begin to coo,
Birds begin to woo
In the wood and lane;
Sweet, the tale is true
Spring is here again!
I have been discreet
All the winter through;
Now, before your feet,
Blossoms let me strew.
Flowers, as yet, are few;
Will my lady deign
Take this flower or two?
Spring is here again
Make the year complete,
Give the Spring her due!
All the flowers entreat,
All the song-birds sue.
'Twixt the green and blue
Let Love wake and reign,
Let me worship you--
Spring is here again!
poem by Edith Nesbit
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