white hyacinths
new kind of snowflakes-
early Spring
haiku by Marius Alexandru (2023)

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Spring Flowers ~ Hyacinths
Hyacinths blooming in the wood
Fragrantly they are bringing
A primal essence of spring
Often I wish that somehow I could
Hear their tiny bells ringing
Perhaps even hear them sing
Yet they seem so intent on slyly hiding
Among the rocks and grass
As if they might be quite shy
With their fragrance all the while providing
A guide to those who pass
Insuring Hyacinths they spy
Hyacinths must be flirtatious flowers
To play at such
A silly tease
Feigning naivete of their powers
They enchant us
With great ease
poem by Mary Havran

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Spring,2004
Spring is bursting
In the Air,
Flowers budding
Everywhere...
Magnolia Blossoms
Open wide,
Daffodills
Both yellow & white...
Spring is Special
Every year,
A Lilac fragrance
In the air...
Dogwoods blooming
Over night
Hyacinths,
So purple and bright...
Spring is here,
It's plain to see
Squirrels scampering
In the trees...
Birds are chirping
From above
Spring Miracles
We Share With Love...
poem by Carmen Strawn

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Early in the Spring
Early in the spring
Not a leaf has struck the ground
The swallow has yet to sing
And the plowmen are no where to be found
Early in the spring
The forest stands still
And no creature dare come out
Before the sun rises o’er the hill
Early in the spring
The valley holds the morning dew
And its serenity may be captured
By only a certain few
Early in the spring
The trees turn, brown to green
Many changes occur
But few can be seen
Early in the spring
Or in the latter of fall
No matter the change of season
The evergreen stands tall
poem by James Kent

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Snowflakes Falling
Snowflakes, falling, from miraculous heights.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, airy and light.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, a blanket of white.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
Snowflakes, falling, crystalline delight.
Snowflakes, falling, on a cold winter's night.
poem by Ben Payton

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Snowflakes
Soft snowflakes drift daintily down,
Without so much as a single sound.
Swirling around, they're a dazzling sight,
And they make the world seem so bright.
Each flake possesses a pattern so very rare,
That no two flakes can make a matching pair.
They each take on a very delicate form,
Which melts away, when it gets warm.
Each unique, frozen crystal is so very tiny;
Glistening in the sunlight, they look so shiny.
Each is a masterpiece: a major work of art,
Which, from our lives, will very soon depart.
Falling snowflakes appear so fluffy and soft,
When, caught by the wind, they dance aloft.
Single snowflakes are as light as a feather,
But weigh a ton, when collected together.
On every surface, the snowflakes collect:
Soon, with white, everything is bedecked.
The snowflakes form a thick carpet of white,
As they settle down, following their flight.
Things, which were familiar to our eyes,
Are suddenly more difficult to recognise.
Snow seems to change the world's face,
And it suddenly seems a different place.
poem by Angela Wybrow

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Spring Blossoms
The blossoms dance on the breeze
drifting along like snowflakes
across my windows.
Some are pink and some are white
lazily they drift
on the currents of the breeze
underneath a simmering sun
the spring blossoms that I see.
Like fluffy feathery down
rising up towards the heavens
and the back down they come.
Tiny parasols drifting
across in the breeze
on a sunny day
the spring blossoms that I see.
29 May 2009
poem by David Harris

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Spring Observations
Green slipped out from under the white -
Splashed in early other colours,
And gave up lambs, who
Bleated tirelessly on the subject.
Screams from the nearby park
Told of newly playful children, with
Bleary fathers, clattering mothers,
Undersense befuddled by a perfume -
It was the budding blossom.
And younger men perked up at
Early bosoms once again parading;
More blossom - audacious blooms:
Sexual selection back on stage.
It was happening with the birds,
Only there was more decorum,
More order - a greater sense of purpose,
Unwitting duty.
I turned over the soil - warming
Under the cautious sun -
Yellow still nubile,
Though coping with its shyness.
My first beads of sweat were oddly ambivalent:
Surging vigour forcing out the
Stubborn winter indolence.
Inside, a warming smile worked
Up towards my mouth, lips, eyes.
The kitchen window rattled:
Lunch was ready.
Copyright © Mark R Slaughter 2010
Spring spring spring spring
Spring spring spring spring
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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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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The Best Day Of The Year
This morning very early I heard the magpie sing
And suddenly it dawned on me it's the first day of Spring
The dawning of September and on the stringybark
The white backed magpie whistled sweet music in the dark.
The first day of September the best day of the year
That is if you are living in the Southern Hemisphere
For Spring the Season of beauty and of greenery and youth
A time of bloom and grass growth when seedlings take to root
The Spring came in at midnight from places far away
She crept in through the darkness for her annual three months stay
And magpie he woke early on the stringybark tree
And for the welcome visitor piped his sweetest melody.
This morning very early before the dawn of day
The magpie welcomed the visitor from places far away
And the first day of September the best day of the year
That is if you are living in the Southern Hemisphere.
poem by Francis Duggan

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Seasons
With the spring
comes a carpet of green
that spreads out
across the land
as new growth rears its head
to meet the spring sun.
Slowly as the season folds
and summer comes along.
The colours of the rainbow
greet everyone’s eyes
along with the warm breezes
that sweep across the land.
The summer folds into autumn
and the vibrant colours
change to musty ones
as harsh winds blow
knocking leaves and petals
to the ground.
Finally, autumn closes
and winter begins again.
White fluffy snowflakes
begin to scatter on the ground.
And when winter comes to go
spring will then return
and the seasons begin all over again.
22 May 2008
poem by David Harris

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A Windy Day In Early September
The wind keeps the air that bit cooler today it is sixteen degrees
And beautiful pink fluffy blossoms adorn the flowering gum trees
And wattlebirds sing in the sunshine though not very pleasant their song
Their hoarse call is very distinctive once heard you cannot get it wrong.
A windy day in early September in changeable weather of Spring
The white backed magpie the marvellous songster in his territory he sing
At breeding time he is aggressive his own kind not even his friend
And he's been known to attack humans with his wife and his young to defend.
A windy day in early september dark rain clouds tell rain is quite near
And the sun that had briefly been hiding between a break in the clouds re-appear
In one day you can get four Seasons 'tis like that at this time of year
But in early days of September you know that warm weather will shortly be here.
A windy day in early September and rain is beginning to fall
And on the flowering gums and wattles the wattlebirds chatter and call
But gone is the coldness of Winter and fruit trees wear pinkish white flowers
And everywhere looks fresh and greener in the sunshine after the showers.
poem by Francis Duggan

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White... Quiet
The day of her funeral
they came in their thousands
to bless her final rest
snowflake upon snowflake
falling into the empty endless grave
as if prayer
upon prayer
until all was white...quiet.
No people ever came
then...& now.
As a child
she held the treasure
of the first snowflakes falling
one by one
resting on her eyelids
(her mind blossoming
into awe & wonder)
tasting them upon her tongue
as if the sky was shedding itself
the snowflakes came
in their thousands
erasing the language
of the landscape
like a child's drawing
all things dressed in white
all things held in silence.
The day of her funeral
they came in their thousands
snowflake upon snowflake
untill all
was white
...quiet.
poem by Dónall Dempsey

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Early Winter In Christmas
How beautiful is an early winter!
Filled with shimmers and colds all seasons
Snowflakes falling all night
How beautiful is an early winter!
Filled with children playing in the snow
And a bright moon positioned in the night sky
How beautiful is an early winter
One with thoughts of families and friends
The early winter of Christmas
By Mugarura Jedidiah
Uganda
poem by Mugarura Jedidiah

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From Early To Mid Spring
The weather changeable from early to mid Spring
But so nice to hear the nesting songbirds sing
In the town park in the gray dawn of the day
Song in their breeding season to defend territory a huge part seems to play
Yesterday we had some heavy showers of rain
But today the sun shines in the sky again
The cooler weather of the Winter all but gone
And the days will become warmer as the Spring goes on
The parks and paddocks looking lush and green
And Nature at her very finest seen
In early Spring the white backed magpie he pipes day and night
And the blackbird can be heard at dawn's first light
And magpie larks build their cup shaped nest on branch of tree
And all day long sing out pee wee pee wee.
poem by Francis Duggan

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A Song
Steal from the meadows, rob the tall green hills,
Ravish my orchard's blossoms, let me bind
A crown of orchard flowers and daffodils,
Because my love is fair and white and kind.
To-day the thrush has trilled her daintiest phrases,
Flowers with their incense have made drunk the air,
God has bent down to gild the hearts of daisies,
Because my love is kind and white and fair.
To-day the sun has kissed the rose-tree's daughter,
And sad Narcissus, Spring's pale acolyte,
Hangs down his head and smiles into the water,
Because my love is kind and fair and white.
poem by Lord Alfred Douglas

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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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Improvisations: Light And Snow: 10
It is night time, and cold, and snow is falling,
And no wind grieves the walls.
In the small world of light around the arc-lamp
A swarm of snowflakes falls and falls.
The street grows silent. The last stranger passes.
The sound of his feet, in the snow, is indistinct.
What forgotten sadness is it, on a night like this,
Takes possession of my heart?
Why do I think of a camellia tree in a southern garden,
With pink blossoms among dark leaves,
Standing, surprised, in the snow?
Why do I think of spring?
The snowflakes, helplessly veering,,
Fall silently past my window;
They come from darkness and enter darkness.
What is it in my heart is surprised and bewildered
Like that camellia tree,
Beautiful still in its glittering anguish?
And spring so far away!
poem by Conrad Potter Aiken

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April In My Heart
H. meinardi / hoagy carmichael
Theres snowflakes in the sky
And geese are flying high
But its april in my heart again
The devil got his due
Loves holiday is through
Love and I have made a happy start again
Through leaves lie on the ground
The world just turned around
It isnt fall at all you see
Its spring that I have found
Theres frost in central park
At five its almost dark
Whats the difference
When youve heard loves sweet amend
Theres snowflakes in the sky
And geese are flying high
But theres april in my heart again
song performed by by Billie Holiday

Submitted by Lucian Velea
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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)

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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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spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
spring nature nature spring; spring nature nature spring
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spring spring spring spring spring spring spring spring
poem by Mark R Slaughter

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