I hold my breath, impatiently
and dress the sky delicately
in stars your bright eyes bring.
Spring days are flushed with love’s warm glow,
the nights untamed by sparks.
Our rhythmic dance for two bestows
full moon to light the dark.
I’ll never stammer for excuse
to ask for your soft kiss,
or with my words unkind bemuse.
Our love means more than this -
the shady oak, the rose’s bloom,
a waterfall’s cascade.
The beauty of a starling’s plume
when near you seems to fade.
Your words are all the air I breathe.
In your embrace, I’m whole;
your love’s a thousand spring blooms wreathed
around my yielding soul.
In summer, winter and in fall,
I’ll seek your rambling heart,
but with a breath of love in spring,
we’ll never be apart.
Take away my static hair,
My thick, wool toque, my glassy eyes.
Take away the chilly air,
The endless clouds, the covered skies.
Give me back my sun-streaked hair,
My floppy hat, my shaded eyes.
Give me back the sea-salt air,
The fluffy clouds, the crystal skies.
Take away my dull, dry skin,
My soggy mitts, my booted feet.
Take away the frosty wind,
The icy paths, the slushy streets.
Give me back my sun-tanned skin,
My denim shorts, my flip-flop feet.
Give me back the toasty wind,
The sparkling dunes, the sandy streets.
Take away harsh Winter's sting,
His gales of hail, his banks of snow.
Give me back my darling Spring,
Her rising sun, her lovely glow.
The spring bells are ringing of purple veneer
They’re telling us winter has crumpled away
Feeble the calls of a snow squall in gear
Strong is the child who is happy and gay
Bubbles are blown in the sky of pure cheer
They’re floating along by the river side quay
Weak are the winds that once drew a tear
With ox like tenacity blossoms display
The red patent shock of a Rose in replete
Her cupid hot lips blow a bubble of love
She blossoms in union so fragile petite
Alongside her sister she fits like a glove
The spring bells are singing a song of pure joy
So go out and join them just plant and enjoy
For seasons are shorter when beauty is lived
An hour of planting, is an hour well sieved
So take to the earth and blossom anew
The bubbles of springtime are floating round you
The suns’ you’re companion you’re sweet little friend
And springtime is something that winter can’t rend.
Contest: Blossoms And Bubbles
For Olive xxx
The crocus first peers from beneath cold earth
Finding warm air and sunshine o’er the snow
Magnificent colors paint hearts with mirth
As in full swing lovers’ great passions grow
Most women associate love with spring
Though young men’s thoughts turn to baseball diamonds
While children fly kites that take gentle wing
As snowbirds return from tropic islands
How blessed we are to breathe that fresh air
One more spring in the calendar of life
When lilacs fill gardens with lavender flare
Vows uttered as man makes woman his wife
Their first child’s birth arrives the next April
Just months after grandma’s been laid to rest
Seasons like ages approach ever graceful
As robins watch offspring fly from the nest
For PD's "Spring" contest
Scrap the smoldering, winsome words
the lovely odd truce made of letters
found carved with the edge of an old pocket knife
on a strap made of metal and leather
Burn off the tarnish on platinum rings
engraved with the infernal: "LOVE"
found pulling limp loyalty up to it's feet
and then giving it a death dealing shove
Trip over shoes which should still be for dancing
and spin them right into the trash
found in the corner of the cluttered dark room
like a pack rat's incurable stash
Blow open windows long stuck closed with paint
Push all the junk to the sill
Unburden your soul of it's hideous secrets
and snatch back your sacred free will...
An old board and a rope had made me a swing,
Sitting there when I was around the age of nine,
I curiously looked up to see the first sign of spring,
Where a robin was building a nest of twigs entwined.
Summer's heat burned my shoulders, so I sought shade,
I climbed up into your strong arms at the age of fourteen,
Along with a book, I relaxed in a solitude no one could invade,
I found myself lost within the pages and the leaves of green.
On a lazy, autumn afternoon, at the age of twenty-three,
I raked the dead leaves that buried my feet into a pile,
Through the orange limbs my black cat peered down at me,
Then leapt from the tree to play among the leaves for awhile.
Now, as I am rapidly approaching the age of thirty-one,
Branches are encased in ice, as winter continues to unfold,
From my window, I see the cardinals and the disappearing sun,
Reminding me that life still survives in the bitter cold.
March, 7th, 2014
Gail Angel Doyle's contest - "Memories On Branches"
It's been dull and dreary for months on end.
The chill of winter is lingering long,
Invading my bones and disturbing my mind.
How I wish this season would hurry along.
Waking this morning I glanced out my window,
Expecting more snow, more clouds, more gray.
But to my surprise and immense delight,
Golden sunlight is in full display!
Here comes the sun in all of its glory,
To warm up the earth and begin its rebirth.
The ice will soon melt and nature awaken,
With colorful flora sprouting up from the earth.
Here comes the sun, see it rise in the east,
Feel its warmth on your face at midday.
Winter's sojourn is coming to an end.
Hallelujah! Spring is on the way.
For Heather Ober's Beatlemania contest
~A Most Beautiful Spring Day~
(Quatrain By Letters)
The most beautiful day has come again
There's so much for us to be thankful for
The butterflies & bees fly after the rain
There's so many more wonderful things in store.
The hummingbirds get fed from flowers
The air is so very nice and mild today
The spring season can bring lots of showers
The children go out and some play all day.
Tending the garden a nice thing to do
Trees and plants all turn green and grow
The sky is clear and so wonderfully blue
There's much enchantment in spring and that's so!
Dorian Petersen Potter
'Quatrain by Letters' is a style created by Erich J. Goller.
Dressed in various shades of green
Mother nature happily gives us spring
With delight she paints the meadows
And shares the joy that it doth bring..
The moss upon the barren rock
And green 'round the daffodil
Trees, their bud and tender leaf
The pond behind the old grist mill
In its glory green speaks of mystery
And life that renews this time each year
Nature smiles at winter's nodding head
With emerald eyes spring again appears
With winter’s end thankfully imminent
The fresh air of spring soon becoming
Blackbird and the Thrush in noble song
Bumble Bee alone busily humming.
Along avenues of scented Lilacs
Dry stone walls mingle with the dawning
Scattered seeds laze in welcome sunshine
Hosts of yellow heads acclaim the morning.
Pussy Willow caress the embankment
Sweet Bluebells across the valley chime
Fragrant hedgerow vibrate to dawn’s tune
Once more adding to the memoir of time.
Hanging baskets swing in sunshine.
Troves of lilacs everywhere.
Venders open down the line.
Boiling peanuts permeate fresh air.
Hundreds of flowers revel in beauty.
Some plain but many exotic.
So cheap of price, I feel it my duty.
To buy a few, and do, wouldn’t you know it.
Usually, too many, before I notice
how light my wallet gets, unless I use debit.
Then I’m looking for space in every crevice
of my car, truck or van; by then I’m on credit.
But what’s money. Usually gone, nothing to show.
Life is too short to not have some pleasure.
We're here for a while, then, too soon we go.
Satisfaction from beauty is the real treasure.
© Jan 2011 For Francine's "Bring on Spring" contest
Spring labor of rainbow blossom
As soft, gentle warm breeze pass
A tranquil redolence fragrance
Ballad on carpet grass
Clear,crisp mirrored fragile bubbles
Of purples, pinks, greens, and blend
Float and dance amongst the valley
Rupture with wet descend
My heart caresses a bouquet
Rainbow bubbles and carefree
As the fields blossoms quince for thirst
In memory of thee
Inflorescence spring flowers reborn
Breaths of bubbles gently kiss the morning blossoms
© Eve Roper 4/11/2015
Peaking from behind the drifting clouds
Sunbeams glisten on the morning dew
The garden gate swings in the breeze
As smiling spring begins its life anew....
The golden sunlight warms the sleepy earth
Green now the color of my lady's gown
Jeweled hummingbirds flit from stem to stem
For waiting hearts the joys of spring abound
Soft showers bathe my blushing cheek....
Prisms for the sunbeams that promise life
A rainbow arches cross the mountain top
Time now to put aside the winter strife.....
Believe I can smell the sweetest smell
That first scent of spring in the air
To see you standing in the morning sun
The wind blowing through your hair
Surely it's here after all this waiting
And finally upon us once more
My favourite season, the season of love
With that smell us guys can't ignore
Makes me feel like asking each girlie
May I kiss and caress you for a while
I promise not to touch your naughty bits
Answer yes and I'll sport a big smile
As strange as it seems, not all will agree
To allow me to invade their space
Those that do are in for a great big treat
The pleasure will show on their face
Believe I can smell the sweetest smell
That first scent of spring in the air
Winter's been cold and disgustingly long
Bout time, I think somebody erred
© Jack Ellison 2014
Spring's yellow-green heart shaped tender leaves blown
Spring's zephyr winds tossed new leaves to and fro
Quickly from hidden laden buds now grown
Absorbing sunlight, spring's green soon to go
Rabbits now from their cozy burrow run
Hop, jump enjoy green tender shoots of grass
While lazily basking in morning sun
Then in late afternoon hide as clouds amass
As the twilight cast its eerie shadow
The sleeping birds roost in their summer nest
Sleepily fawn_doe in lush green meadow
Darkness of night with shadows now brings rest
Falling rain, as gentle as a mother's touch
On field and flower, the path and pond
Drops glistening in first morning light
Spilling over the far hills and beyond
Showers erase the last of winter's rust
Barren ground shows a hint of greening
Meandering, delight in this renewing
For the troubled heart, new meaning
Nothing is more exhilarating
Than the first warm day of spring
As we shoo away old man winter
Listening to the birdies sing
Crocuses, daffodils, and tulips
Popping up to greet the day
Laughter reigns in nature's abode
Through the merry month of May
It feels like a whole brand new start
The world is young once more
Filled with joy and great expectations
As we knock on summer's door
Gayly sailing into the season ahead
Let's first enjoy the moment
A moment each year of true renewal
The joyful season of content
© Jack Ellison 2013
A bit premature perhaps?
See thaw and flow
As winter goes;
Observe the glow
Spring ritual lo!
See the mood swing
From low to high;
Lunar year springs
As magic sighs.
See colours bright
In flowers' hymn;
For the spring nymphs!
See myriad births
As death keeps still;
Life springs with mirth
With joys that fill.
See faces smile
As sun brings birth;
Good Mother Earth.
See bright glories
In little things;
In swirl and swing.
See sun and rain
Create a show;
Arch of rainbow.
See so much more
That words can tell;
Sense a pure core
That ever dwells.
See vivid change
Surround and ground;
Wonder meets strange
In range now found.
See soul and heart
In season's mind;
Start to craft art
In hearty finds.
06 February 2015
A soil well rested after winter`s sleep of death
Waiting anxiously to receive life`s new breath
Seeds of potentiality sown, laboriously planted
Not knowing whether fruits to them will be granted
Blind, creative forces of nature flood the earth
Soon, many a wondrous creature will be given birth
Plants and animals themselves faithfully reproduce
But a greater miracle the heavens will also induce
Phoenixes use the souls of men as a nesting ground
Their fiery selves resurrect from their burial mound
A new beginning, birth of warmth and hope in the heart
They slowly boil the blood with their alchemical art
Warmth in the air weather fair
flowers in the glades;
butterflies sip juicy dip
green become arcades.
Cherry blossoms so awesome
Sakura time glee;
each young pair goes waltzing there
spring makes them carefree.
Such lovely things are part of spring,
Each greening, borning, blooming thing.
A pansy face, a new made nest,
In spring God sends his very best.
How can one see and yet not know,
It's God who makes the springtime show;
Yellow chicklings, downy ducklings,
All new growings, all new sucklings?
Kitten and puppy, foal and lamb,
Each one is sent by the great I Am.
In the worst of winter's fury,
Spring is coming, not to worry.
God shows his love to us in spring
With all new things to make hearts sing.
He fills our needs to keep us whole,
Topped off with spring, to feed the soul.
Won a 3rd in contest
Early Christmas morning I glanced outside,
and no snow was falling, and suddenly a vision of a luminous light
with a trembling child appeared in sight...
and could this have been the Infant of prophecy and might?
And He softly said with the sweetest and kindest voice,
"I bring you no snow but endless love...the warmest flame
that makes every forsaken and unhappy heart rejoice;
it's a gift so gladly given to all the believers of this blessed age."
Struck by that splendid appearance, unafraid,
I ran to thank him for those wonderful words,;
and not having seen any gift under the decorated spruce,
I seemed puzzled, but not fearful or nearly surprised.
There it stood, my gift from that generous child with golden, curly hair:
a purple spring crocus never seen before, an Alpine flower
which grows in early April in every emerald meadow...
I leaned forward with much gentleness and plucked it from the cold snow.
When I stood up, he was gone and not a trace of him could be found,
and who was that cherub without wings...to leave that flower in the bitter cold?
Wasn't He the Christ Child who was born in a Bethlehem's abandoned stable?
And wasn't hope the meaning of the purple spring crocus so beautiful?
I don't have time to watch it more
- the crooked clock of ironed past -
I don't believe I can feel spring
Unless I grab your hand and jump
Together in the blossom maze
Perhaps we bring ourselves alive
In poison-free redwoods up north
And secret Jacaranda wonders.
If eyes don't open - I understand
You don't need them to see our Heaven
But bear with me for falling seconds
And hope cocoons will burst and open
I sprout again through solid pavement
Against the reconstruction site
And I do know I can bring spring
Together with your warmth from Heaven.
Spring, like the Phoenix, rises from the ash of winter's fire,
when ice and snow from frozen row are logs upon its pyre.
They thaw and trickle moisture to each niche upon the earth.
The liquid flame of water means a season of rebirth.
The Phoenix lived for centuries while the seasons are our place.
Each life in hastened, fleeting years meets death once, face to face.
So, when the waters grant new life our world takes on the sheen
of bold and brilliant color showing forth so fresh and keen.
High summer knows the vigor of each green and living thing:
the creatures, all that walk or crawl, or soar upon the wing.
Bold seasons see the great bird's crest as lustrous, bright and gold,
but as the season cools and dries the Phoenix does grow old.
His colors are still vivid for the shortened days of fall,
but slowly piling twigs and leaves he readies for his pall.
The harvest gleaned, cold holds dominion 'oer the late fall air,
a sallow, aging, Phoenix seeks in earnest for his lair.
The long and dormant winter binds all life within its chill.
The once quite vibrant Phoenix lies upon death's pyre, so still.
We wait to see the Sun shine bright and wake our frozen earth,
its fire means the Great Phoenix may experience rebirth.
Spring, Like the Phoenix
I thought spring had sprung,
But snow falls from the heavens
Just love Canada!
Promised myself, today would be a goodie
On a scale of good to bad
Some days are diamonds, some days are stone
Yesterday wasn't as good as I've had
So many things can turn it around
That really seem unimportant
Like cheery hellos from neighbours and friends
Small things are just reinforcement
For life to turn out the way you envisioned
Is up to each one of us it seems
To choose the right path and stay on the track
The result will be sugar and cream
That's not to say there won't be some times
The choice won't be yours to make
Those days are common and unavoidable
Just remember a deep breath to take
They're usually only momentary glitches
In our everyday manner of things
Just try to remember to keep a positive outlook
Won't be long till it's once again spring
© Jack Ellison 2014
Ninety days till springtime
No more silly hats and mitts
Can't wait till robin red breast
Sings its happy springtime hit
It's by far the sweetest season
When that feeling is attained
You wake up each day singing
That happy spring refrain
Could there be a greater feeling
Away with that big red nose
You feel the warmth all over
Right down to your very toes
It's how one gets through winter
The promise of days ahead
Thrilled with the sight of crocuses
No winter storms to dread
You may say I'm a wee bit early
With my ode to springtime fun
But ninety days goes by quickly
Can almost feel that April sun
So hang on just a wee bit longer
It'll be here before you know it
Probably think I'm a daft old man
Or just a silly old poet!
© Jack Ellison 2013
One can only dream...
One perfect forlorn last snowflake
To lemon drop tulip flies
Sleep dormant to blossom life
To waking kiss and ready sighs
One day closer to spring tra-la
One day closer to spring
Wish the days would just fly on by
Instead of lingering
Who needs winter, nobody I say
Time when everything dies
Three seasons surely would do us fine
We'd be a bunch of happier guys
Who do we talk to about our plight
A man in charge of complaints
Don't usually like to make any waves
But for sure I ain't no saint
One day closer to spring tra-la
Smelling sweet daffodils
Hey I can dream, it ain't against the law
Dreams are like magic pills
© Jack Ellison 2014
Mother Nature picked her paintbrush up
and stenciled in some hues
soft yellows, purples, reds and pinks
and pastel powder blues.
She rose from a snowy slumber
it was now time to ignite
her color wheel to replace
a world still dressed in white.
Ushering in a tranquil breeze
commanding the sun to smile
casting out remains of winter chill
so in a little while
wild flowers would dot green rolling hills,
songbirds would return to sing
the prelude to sister, Summer,
is the magical season of spring.