En.Citatepedia^®.ro

the first buds of spring
and soft ripple of a stream
whispers of nature

haiku by Marius Alexandru (2023)
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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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Song (1912)

All suddenly the wind comes soft,
And Spring is here again;
And the hawthorn quickens with buds of green,
A nd my heart with buds of pain.

My heart all Winter lay so numb,
The earth so dead and frore,
That I never thought the Spring would come,
Or my heart wake any more.

But Winter's broken and earth has woken,
And the small birds cry again;
And the hawthorn hedge puts forth its buds,
And my heart puts forth its pain.

poem by Rupert Brooke (1912)
Submitted by Veronica Serbanoiu
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Spring

The alder by the river
Shakes out her powdery curls;
The willow buds in silver
For little boys and girls.

The little birds fly over
And oh, how sweet they sing!
To tell the happy children
That once again ’tis spring.

The gay green grass comes creeping
So soft beneath their feet;
The frogs begin to ripple
A music clear and sweet.

And buttercups are coming,
And scarlet columbine,
And in the sunny meadows
The dandelions shine.

And just as many daisies
As their soft hands can hold
The little ones may gather,
All fair in white and gold.

Here blows the warm red clover,
There peeps the violet blue;
O happy little children!
God made them all for you.

poem by Celia Thaxter
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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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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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Ripple

Ripple runs through circles till
It meets another ripple’s will, -
Perhaps it overrides the first,
Perhaps subsides, perhaps both burst.
Life, likewise, ripples, never still,
Eternal circles stream Time’s thirst...

21 August 1995

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Aubade

Mystical Morning Song came whispering
It's melodious rhythmic sounds
For the spring time lays in the Garden's
Of lovers floral bouquet abed in the ground

Waiting for your happiness in your love to grow
You continue to wonder in absolute awe
While prolonging whispers of lover's musical breeze
That embraces The Spring and welcomes Winter's thaw

The warmth of the sun rays come in loves burning
Filling all nature and you with serene
Allowing all new Spring buds of love to open
Tantalizing aroma's of new memories to be made
Come the Mystical Morning Song Spring

Dedicated to: Jeri, Aka, Morning Song
With love

A Morning song is an Aubade
Or the regret of lovers that Dawn
Has come too soon

il n'est mie jors,
Saverose au corps gent
Si me consent Dieus
L'aloete nos ment

Transalation:
It is not daylight
O sweet one with the gentle body
So God help me
The Lark lies to us

(-Provencal, twelfth or Thirteenth Century)

poem by Theodora Onken
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The Coming Of Spring

Spring is come back, and the little voices are calling,
The birds are calling, the little green buds on the trees,
A song in the street, and an old and sleepy tune;
All the sounds of the spring are falling, falling,
Gentle as rain, on my heart, and I hear all these
As a sick man hears men talk from the heart of a swoon.

The clamours of spring are the same old delicate noises,
The earth renews its magical youth at a breath,
And the whole world whispers a well-known, secret thing;
And I hear, but the meaning has faded out of the voices;
Something has died in my heart: is it death or sleep?
I know not, but I have forgotten the meaning of spring.

poem by Arthur Symons
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A Song Of A Spring-Time

TOO rash, sweet birds, spring is not spring;
Sharp winds are fell in east and north;
Late blossoms die for peeping forth; Rains numb, frost blights;
Days are unsunned, storms tear the nights;
The tree-buds wilt before they swell.
Frosts in the buds, and frost-winds fell: And you, you sing.

But let no song be sweet in spring;
Spring is but hope for after-time,
And what is hope but spring-tide rime? But blights, but rain?
Spring wanes unsunned, and sunless wane
The hopes false spring-tide bore to die.
Spring's answer is the March wind's sigh: And you, you sing.

poem by Augusta Davies Webster
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In Horto Rev. J. Still,

APUD KNOYLE, VILLAM AMOENISSIMAM.

Stranger! a while beneath this aged tree
Rest thee, the hills beyond, and flowery meads,
Surveying; and if Nature's charms may wake
A sweet and silent transport at thine heart,
In spring-time, whilst the bee hums heedless nigh,
Rejoice! for thee the verdant spot is dressed,
Circled with laurels green, and sprinkled o'er
With many a budding rose: the shrubs all ring
To the birds' warblings, and by fits the air
Whispers amid the foliage o'er thine head!
Rejoice, and oh! if life's sweet spring be thine,
So gather its brief rose-buds, and deceive
The cares and crosses of humanity.

poem by William Lisle Bowles
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If I had [De-aş avea]

If I had a pretty flower
Fresh and sweet and full of power
Like all those that bloom in May,
Charming daughters of the day,
Growing on a grassy field
Where the grass is moved by wind,
And where people hear above
Gentle whispers full of love;

If I had a little flower
Nice and younger than the hour,
Dressed like lilies at their best
And white like the snowy breast,
Sometimes with a shade of pink,
Sometimes purple like a drink,
Like a song one hears above
Soft like whispers full of love;

If I had a dove as white
As a girl's face shining bright,
A meek girl, a lovely thing,
Like a sunny day of spring,
I would sing her all day long
The traditional folk song
And the notes will rise above
Soft like whispers full of love.

poem by Mihai Eminescu, translated by Octavian Cocoş
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To K.M.D.

In the buds, before they burst,
Leaves and flowers are moulded;
Closely pressed they lie at first,
Exquisitely folded.

Though no hope of change they felt,
Folded hard together,
Soon their sap begins to melt
In the warmer weather.

Till, when Life returns with Spring,
Through them softly stealing,
All their freshness forth they fling,
Hidden forms revealing. [606]

Who can fold those flowers again,
In the way he found them?
Or those spreading leaves restrain,
In the buds that bound them?

Trust me, Spring is very near,
All the buds are swelling;
All the glory of the year
In those buds is dwelling.

What the opened buds reveal
Tells us—Life is flowing;
What the buds, still shut, conceal,
We shall end in knowing.

Long I lingered in the bud
Doubting of the season,
Winter's cold had chilled my blood-—
I was ripe for treason.

Now no more I doubt or wait,
All my fears are vanished,
Summer’s coming, dear, though late,
Fogs and frosts are banished.

poem by James Clerk Maxwell
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I Love Time Out With Nature

I love time out with Nature and I love peace and quiet
To walk along the gravel path in the evening sunlight
When the wild birds are singing and Spring is in her prime
And even memories of such inspire the soul to rhyme.

I love time out with Nature a brief release from care
For Nature she is generous her gifts with all she share
We drink of her clear spring waters and we breathe in her life sustaining air
And Nature's splendid beauty is around us everywhere.

I love time out with Nature the only God I know
Her stream from the high country down to the river flow
The skylark from the rank grass in the mood for song he fly
One of Nature's feathered minstrels he carols in the sky.

In time out with Mother Nature from life's cares I find ease
The sounds of the leaves rustling in the freshening evening breeze
And we much like the Seasons to life we come and go
But Nature lives forever the only God I know.

poem by Francis Duggan
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Petals & Things

It’s my very favorite time of year
Yes it’s spring, oh glorious spring
The world is alive with changes
Like delightful petals and things

Precious tiny leaves peek out
All along the branches
Buds are getting braver now
Flowers about to take chances

Color is fresh and new again
The fragrance wafts in the air
Gives us hope for tomorrow for
There is not so many cares

For nature is filling in the voids
Without a single string
Let’s enjoy what spring gives us
Like wonderful petals and things!

poem by Marilyn Lott
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The More I learn About Nature

The more I learn about Nature the less I realize I know
About how creatures live in wild state, about how plants and grasses grow
About how flowers close in the evening and open to the morning light
We learn every day from Nature and we learn from what others write.

The more I learn about Nature the more I come to realize
That Nature has a billion lessons each day for us a new surprise
How some trees in Spring get leaves and blossoms and how other trees are evergreen
In Nature there are many lessons and many wonders to be seen.

The more I learn about Nature the less I know I know or so 'twould seem
In Autumn the salmon leaves the ocean to lay her eggs in Inland stream
And her offspring to breed to the stream return and years go by with little change
And ways of Nature never simple and ways of Nature can be strange.

The more I learn about Nature the more self conscious I become
that I must not be clever person in many ways I seem quite dumb
We ought to learn from things around us but I've not learnt much at all
when mother took us from the cradle before we walked we had to crawl

The more I learn about Nature the more and more I seem to see
That Nature can be very complex and far too big a thing for me
And Nature has a billion lessons and the more I learn the less I know I know
About how creatures live in wild state and about how plants and grasses grow.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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 Spring Now In The Northlands

It is Spring now in the Northlands the Northlands far away
And the hawthorns are heavily laden in their white blooms of the May
And the hooded crow is cawing in his cloak of black and gray
And the white breasted dipper singing in the river all the day.

It is Spring now in the Northlands and cock robin all day long
On the trees around his borders sings his territorial song
And the stream from the foothills by the hedgerows babbling down
On it's journey to the river through the old fields by the town.

It is Spring now in the Northlands a delightful time of year
And the voice of the migrant cuckoo is a pleasant thing to hear
When one has the whims of fancy 'tis not hard to visualize
The songs of Nature's feathered minstrels at daybreak before sunrise.

It is Spring now in the Northlands and the fields are looking green
Where the wildering flowers of Nature in abundance can be seen
And primroses, snowdrops and bluebells bloom on ditch of the bohreen
When one talks of Nature's Seasons Spring is surely beauty queen.

poem by Francis Duggan
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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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The First Signs of Spring

The first signs of spring bring smiles and joy to us all,

Its the beginning of nature and the birth of the new season,

It brings life and renewal back to the cold plains,

Springing buds that will flourish,

Then open in full bloom for summer,

The young of the cattle and the spring of the lamb,

Are all the signs of spring,

With the snow and freeze temperatures,

Turning into cool breezes,

And clear sunny winds blowing,

Knowing its spring again,

The mundane feelings of winter blues,

Start to diminish in our seasonal affective winter faces,

As the sun shines a bit warmer,

So does the color of our face glow brighter,

And all show well in the spring of their steps,

As even the old can get out some more,

Now spring has arrived with safer passage,

Spring is also a time to clear out,

The unwanted items in our homes as we spring clean,

Then there the things to forget or put in the past,

Is in the spring cleaning of our thinking,

To clear our thinking better for a clearer future,

Then there's the renewal of forgiving,

As we forgive and forget,

Forgiving to start anew,

Is the starting again,

Or re birthing the past,

With a new attitude to help,

Its foundations this time round stronger,

Spring,

Is the time to see how it all begins,

For what is way beneath the ground or hibernating,

In the spring shows itself and nature in it splendor,

For what decays and withers,

The spring shows its second coming,

From what lay beneath the ground all winter,

Springs renews in growth,

And mother nature shows her splendor,

Come the first signs of spring,

We all start feeling somewhat better.

poem by Ellen Ni Bheachain
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Nature's blessings Spring

Nature's blessings called Spring

Nature's blessings
Cherry trees in bloom
Cascades of colours
Floating into my room

Nature's blessings
Eruption of new life
Everywhere around
It's the eternal bound

Nature's blessings
Spring's awakening
Fills one with new hopes
Melting away sorrow slopes

Nature's blessings
Shy scarce sunbeams
Sense of survival
Swallow's arrival

Nature's blessings
Flowers popping up
It's time to hold on
For young and old

Nature's blessings
Cycle of every year
Winter months we bear
Now earthly warming

Nature's blessings
Worth all the gold
Nature's natural gift
To life we all hold

Nature's blessings called Spring

poem by Morhardt Carmen Mencita Monoi Angel
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