~The Butterflies Dance~
(A Double Whitney)
The sun is
so warm and nice
there is cheer
spring has sprung
one more time and
winter so cold is now gone.
have returned and
and the roses
to my delight
Now I see butterflies dance.
Dorian Petersen Potter
Walking by the river.
It was that kind of day
With the Spring Sun soft and warm
There was a kind of energy
That moved within my form
I could have walked the whole day long
As I felt me, natures pull
Oh Lord those river trails are beautiful.
I passed a group of roos
Who were grazing by the river
Some Parrots screeched above my head
And set my heart a quiver
And as those creatures gave their calls
A Kookaburra laughed
Oh how I love to walk that river path.
It was that kind of day
That you’d like to last for years
With the country air rich in my lungs
And my mind all calm and clear
I could have walked until I dropped
Along that river trail
Feeling good and living in the now.
16 September 2004
Willie wagtail wakes the morning
With his song outside my room
He tells me that the day is dawning
And sings away all shades of gloom.
Lovely bird, back black and shiny
With his belly creamy white
He sits there on a roof so finely
Giving my Soul sweet delight
‘Morning’s here’ his song is singing
Every note so loud and clear
As his song to me is bringing
A feeling oh, so sweet and dear.
26 August 2013 @ 0657hrs.
As winter's icy talons release their grip,
Leaving behind a landscape barren brown,
Spring waltzes in and proceeds to strip,
Winter of her tattered, lifeless gown,
Replacing it with green and floral crown.
Golden sunlight thaws the frigid earth,
Flora of a thousand kind burst into bloom.
Nature comes alive in glorious rebirth,
Extinguishing winter's boorish gloom,
And infusing the air with sweet perfume.
Butterflies take flight from their cocoons,
Spreading wings of red, blue and gold.
Warbling birds let loose a merry tune,
While building nests, their eggs to hold.
How marvelous to watch new life unfold!
What joy it is to be alive,
To feel spring's sunshine on your face,
To live, to love, to dream, to thrive,
As spring assumes her proper place,
Wrapping us in her warm embrace.
For Francine Roberts
Spring English Quintain contest.
Standing out in a field alone, a little white flower named Daisy longed for someone to share her world.
One day a blue flower named Bachelor Button entered her world they became friends.
She knew by his name that he was not the propagating kind, but that didn’t stop their relationship she called him BB short for best bud.
The seasons of Spring & Summer they enjoyed the sun, laughed in the rain and held on fast in the Fall.
Winter came it was long and hard they were both covered in a blanket of snow, not knowing whether they would ever see each other again or even survive .The snow fell then came the ice, this went on for months.
The Sun shone brightly the first day of spring. A few days later warmth of the sun melted the snow, Daisy popped up .
I’ve been waiting days for you to come out, said BB, they both chanted hooray!
The snow was completely gone in a few days, the birds started building their nests , bugs were crawling around ,butterflies began to visit the two flowers. I wish there were more of us Daisy said, to BB.
They laughed as the sun and wind blew through their leaves. Then it started the sun and rain took turns until one morning the air & field was filled with the smell of flowers.
Daisy and BB looked at each other and asked what kind of flowers are these ? they’re not white like daisies they’re not blue like bachelor buttons. They did not know the birds and bugs carried the seeds from the two of them and the caterpillars buried them under the soil.
The seeds from the new flowers were then carried by the winds many miles away, they landed in fertilized gardens and flourished, although they faced danger everyday.
as they were called WEEDS ..
The Gardener pulls weeds out of the garden so they don’t choke the flowers, which cost a lot of money and require lots of maintenance.
However there was a Gardener who saw her friends spending hours weeding their garden , that they didn’t have enough time to admire and enjoy the labors of their love
So she set out to give a home to all the weeds ,she provided a place where they could fit in and multiply, they required no maintenance, rain provides their water .
The best part of all is their beauty is in the eye of the beholder.
Ask my granddaughter-- What are those flowers in the garden ?
She will answer "WILDFLOWERS " their parents were Daisy and BB
Meeting with a Tiger snake
The sky above is sheer perfection
The deepest shade of blue
The big gold sun, it shines on down
And lights on drops of dew
To make them shine like pretty gems
Upon the soft green leaves
Of trees reflected in the lake
Such a poem this morning weaves.
A tiger snake comes swimming by
He swims amidst some gulls
In his special wiggly way
It’s a blessing to my soul
To see these creatures swim together
No danger written there
He’s at peace with all that live
It seems he has no care.
He swims up to the leafy shore
Then hides behind a tree
He knows I’m there yet, doesn’t care
He has no fear of me
But when I try to get up closer
The snake, he flares his head
So I must heed this danger sign
Or soon I could be dead.
Then snake, he moves off through the bush
And goes upon his way
He’ll find some other place to lie
On this lovely summer’s day
The day is coming soon enough
[The autumn is quite near]
When this snake will sleep in peace
Until the spring is here.
4 March 2014 @ 1145hrs
And now the weeping willow turns to green.
So brilliant red, the robin’s breast,
Just like the sun, now sinking in the West,
And down the lane more signs of spring are seen :
The spiky blackthorn blossom’s shining white –
It looks as if the hedgerow’s decked with snow.
Beneath, the peeping primrose seems to glow
With luminous and creamy lunar light.
Come hear the soaring skylark’s tuneful song
And listen to the jackdaw’s chimney chat.
See squabbling sparrows startled by the cat
As through the undergrowth he slinks along.
We mark these signs of Spring so early in the year,
But damage from late frosts may dash our hopes I fear.
Leeroy von Nebulae and Pitter Patter Supernova
Upon the sparkling April field, where the bell-flowers blossome'd,
two poets stood amid the blooms, two writers of their wisdom,
where singing aves exalted them, cause deep in verse have fathome'd
and treated poetry like none, with loyalty and serfdom.
Meantime the birds were chirping in the leafage of the forest
the two composers synthesize'd the crop of thoughts that random
became their poetry's free verse, philosophy, thus, modest,
the scriptures called bankrupted talk and artlessness of flotsam.
The authors, thus, amid the trees, and vervains' purple colors,
narrated 'bout the pepper steaks and pizzas pepperoni,
the grayish donkeys and their bray, through softened words of candor,
conducting hence this spectacle and joyous ceremony.
What was occurring round the two was godly sent, on purpose;
the softened breeze, the sunny morn, the singing of the birdies,
and furthermore their kindest verse that both believed was flawless,
- the soul's redemption stands upon the praising by the toadies.
Obtusely raising, slow but firm, their tilted thoughts euphoric
have driven both to fly above this natural assemblage,
hence joyfully enjoine'd the cause of logic anti-strophic,
amid the clouds envisioning a pizza-Heaven-cottage.
Leeroy von Nebulae and Pitter Patter Supernova
expressed their malarky of verse, that donkeys then recited
and stood impassive 'mid the blooms, their thoughts a dull cadenza,
evaluated by the birds, that chirped their notes, astounded.
© 03-23-2014, G. Venetopoulos, All Rights Reserved
(Iambic decapentasyllabic verse)
This story is based partly on the Indian mythology and partly
on my imagination. The story theme is anger, which can destroy
even the entire Earth, but if controlled it can also be converted
into creative energy. The incident is from the mythology of Hindus,
which speaks, how Shiva the supreme God of Hindus started
one day his Tandava Nritya * or the Dance of destruction and
how it was controlled …..What was the cause of this anger would
be explained in the concluding part of this epic.
When the Earth was in danger 07
By then the new foliage of spring had began to smile,
on the branches of every tree,
All the buds of the flower plants had started blooming,
in that new swing of season,
Fragrance coming from the sandalwood forests,
was flowing in the air all around,
intoxicating everyone and everything,
All the insects, animals and birds,
which were not conscious about this sudden change of season,
Began to dance in sweet pleasure,
after tasting the intoxication flowing in the air. 25
Even the Koyal* started its sweet spring singing,
in her most melodious voice during that time,
which she had never sang before.
The peacock also started its most colorful and
The Rivers too began to flow with the most pleasing sound,
as if they were singing a song.
The sky had opened in those moments,
its fabulous treasures of alluring colors,
to charm the entire universe.
The Sun rays coming from behind the hovering colorful clouds
were spreading on the earth,
a magical scene which no one had ever witnessed on Earth.
Such was the grandeur and wind of attractions,
everywhere on the earth,
that even Gods too got completely lost,
what to say of human beings. 26
Embodiment of Shiva* the Neelkantha*
which use to fly often high and low in the air,
were today dancing like a Peacock,
while spreading their blue wings in the air.
What had happened to the Earth,
why everyone was lost in the realm of a different world.
All the inhabitants of Earth and even of the heaven,
were keeping a silence only with folded hands.
As they were either praying to Shiva or
were silently praying to their favorite Gods
to save the earth.
Kanpur India 07 h April 2011 to continue in 8
• Koyal = a singing bird of India like nightingale.
• Neelkanth* = Blue jay. A bird having blue throat. To see Neelkanth please open
Notice thou not the filling of the branches,
Green leaves and colored petals teeming with life,
As winter departs and springtime advances
Announced carefree aloft by birds with no strife
In high pitched melodies, like Soldier and fife.
From the hammocks of springtime all is quite well,
With showers and sunlight new life doth now spring
As bees pollinate and sleep doth befell,
And gentle breezes give sway to lovers who swing
Like the cadence of a bride, to bouquet she doth cling.
Notice thou not the filling of the branches
Winter's harsh beating winds now replaced,
By watercolors splashed across sky's canvas
Overlooking butterflies and love scenes chaste
Old Man Winter has departed, his chill now displaced.
Writen 4/16/2014 for the, "A Spring Day in English Quintain"Poetry contest.
Look, it's the first bloom of spring
A proud daffodil stands all alone
Soon to be joined by others
And light up our lovely home
Like the sun she beams so brightly
Announcing that Spring is here
There's no shyness in her yellow bud
She wants our notice that much is clear
So like a magnet I'm drawn to her
And to all that she represents
The changing of the seasons
Gazing upon her brings sweet content
The birds are singing a happy song
The breeze is waving its approval
New beginnings are bursting forth
Bright colors are Winter's removal
Sleepy beauty is waking up
The prince has placed his kiss
The lone daffodil is now surrounded
Together they dance in bliss
Kindly my Spring fever is satisfied
What once was hope has now arrived
And the world has come alive again
The long Winter I've survived!
Contest: Spring Fever
Sponsored by: POETESS DARKLY
North Carolina—a beautiful place of humble abode,
On summer vacations or all the year round.
Rife with history, the Wright Brothers showed,
Thanks to Kitty Hawk's sand dunes at heights quite profound,
Hosting Earth's first manned flight on wings at our coast.
Carolina Tarheels—the battle cries loud,
Across our green state, Biltmore east, towards Kill Devil Hills.
Rolling gently across cotton and tobacco fields plowed,
Over civil war lands defended with vigor and skill.
Lakes and streams they're a plenty, abundant wildlife to boast,
Identified as "Southern" south of Mason-Dixon’s own line.
North Carolina place of wonder, from mountains to coast,
Appalachian Trail hikers by the thousands lovingly opine.
So the next time you feel, the need to discover,
Visit North Carolina's splendor, with a friend, sister, or brother!
Arise, you song birds sing in morning dew;
The flow’ry host to colour fields and furrows,
And sap of Spring runs gold in willows veins;
As tender leaves unfold to speak of birth,
Fresh mountain ranges iced give life anew—
While waters melt and stream through cricks and borrows
The gleams of light will melt the winter strains
Though spills of oil have quenched the songs of earth.
The corporate sting of greedful revenue,
Has bankrupt natural wonders—greedy farrows
The eagle has no pow’r to save her eggs,
Tall forests fall and crush the robin’s hue
When flow’ry petals change to black on yellow—
The spotted fawns arise with warbled legs
Birds sing springtime
Diminished in cold
red against still bare branches
Spring is coming
Spring is coming
I can feel it in my blood
The days, it seems are warming up
And feelings like a flood
Come gushing through me like a river
Oh Lord, it’s almost spring
Oh what love is in my heart
What joy to me this brings
Hallelujah, it is coming
The birds are getting frisky
The canaries sing a lovely song
And the dog he runs so briskly
All around the garden
Seems he knows that spring is here
The fish are chasing all around
And the sky is blue and clear
No one understands it
This thing spring does to me
No one could ever feel it
So wonderful it be
But when I know the spring is here
It makes me feel so sweet
Twenty eight days away from now
Then the spring time we will greet.
2 August 2013 @ 1447hrs.
one twig, two twigs, three
soft down plucked from mother’s breast
the perfect bower
three tiny blue eggs
under warmth of mother’s love
they stir, they hatch new
three urgent beaks open
insistent, burning, they beg
speckled downy fuzz
World of Haiku
I do not know?
The calming sounds of birds chirping fills the air,
The smell of flowers just beginning to bloom,
The sight of the green coming back to the grasses life,
The feeling of being engulfed by a blanket of sun,
Spring has arrived.
The sound of lackluster lawn mowers starting back up,
The smell of fresh food being grilled on the patio,
The sight of sun rays beaming through the sky,
The feeling of riding around with your windows down,
Spring has arrived.
The sound of wood crackling in a toasty bonfire,
The pleasant smell of freshly cut grass,
The sight of waves crashing along the shoreline,
The feeling of having a slight breeze on a nice day,
Spring has arrived.
The sound of children back playing outside,
The smell of fresh rain caked to the air after a storm,
The sight of birds darting through the crisp air,
The feeling of cold lake water touching your feet,
That's when you can tell,
Spring has arrived.
Two tiny parrots
fluttering in this big cage
wonder what spring is:
trees with blossoming branches,
where other birds build their nests?
Nature declares spring
with its harmonious sounds;
above a blue sky,
below meadows with blue-bells:
isn't it time I set them free?
The sun shone brightly at last
On this breezy spring day
A black cat stalked a yellow bird in play,
As he stepped lightly across the fields of grass
Covered with dew , Alarmed , the bird flew
Leaving the cat with nothing to do
The sun shone brightly
on this breezy spring day
As the mouse appeared suddenly
through the field of grass
And once again the cat turned to play
Elayne will reach the mountain spring
fresh water in the jug to pour,
the nightingales are there to sing,
untamed her feelings lonely soar.
She fills her heart with music notes,
her voice will cause the leaves to stir,
for lovers' pain sole antidotes
are songs of birds and nightly myrrh.
And as her lyrics rise to heav'n,
and render modes of the soft wind,
her palms caress his name engrav'n
on her betrothal golden ring.
He left her world and promised that
one Sunday they would meet in church;
a framed old shot of surface matte
and daily trails her glances search.
Elayne of springs, on rocks awaits,
and recreates her wedding feasts;
the wraiths around her dance with fates,
for eons play in cotton mists.
As one of them stares in her eyes,
she gropes her heart because she loves;
upon the rocks mentates she nice,
her golden ring and two white doves.
© Giorgio V., 07-22-2012
Written for the contest
A Spring Day In English Quintain
The Butterfly Mattress Co.
The day, I started this job
Of course you'd consider me GREEN
So I had to be trained by Bob
first on the Kings, then Queens
Using the BUTTERFLY Mattress machine.
First time I put in a SPRING
Another popped out of a seam
It caught on to Bobs wedding ring
And boy, he let out a scream
While I shut down the Butterfly Mattress machine
Mr. BIRD, the Owner and Chief
Immediately showed on the seen
Expressed a moment of grief
And after that moment ,he deemed
He LOVED the Butterfly Mattress machine
So Bob was made to retire
And no longer a part of the team
And his job is what I've acquired
But I'm careful to watch all the seams
While operating The Butterfly Mattress Machine
So happy I am for the Birds and the Bees,
who rustle and bumble all for our ease.
Nestled so sweetly in their nectar and honey,
no my dear, it is not for the money.
They garden the flowers and live in the trees,
so happy I am for the buzzing of bees.
As my head lay heavy on this pillow,
my ears perk to the chirping of robins outside my window.
I am gleeful as I listen to their joyous hymn
that I begin to hum along on a whim.
The dawn chorus was most superb that day,
if work didn’t beckon me, I wouldn’t have whisked away.
Beautiful blossoms capture my stare,
iris here, lily there, hydrangea’s everywhere.
When I ask who shepherds them, easily they reply
“the bumble bees nearby, often do supply
pollen with their feet, ‘tis really quite so neat!”
Spring is in the air
Birds nesting, new life hatching
Best time of the year
~ Please see notes above ~
It was a long walk, with time heeling at my shadow.
(and somewhere miles away the garage door closed, and the exhaust flowed,
and a small dog died in her limp arms)
I was friendly with God. Only with small trepidation did I drink from the sordid
chalice, minutes before, and decided that a walk, skip and a jump to nowhere is what I
needed the most. And so it was.
Block after block, stones in the pavement, the smell of creosote poles.
Delicate foil wrappers, industrial petals, She loves me not, she loves....
Sidetrack with backpack, it doesn't matter. I don't care.
I'll be there when I damn well find myself somewhere. Which is where
the trees grow bright, and the birds flit without flapping.
And the water forms misty and bejeweled, laying my mind out flat
like steam would fine linen. then I will sit and breath with an "e". You bet.
But first a small lap in a languid pool of solace, a tip toe through the forest afire with
colors borrowed from alien hands, a taste of spring time cum. Let me wallow.
God, friend, let me wallow in your mess of beauty, before I call it something.
Let me roll around like a goddamn dog. I want to itch and draw forth honey from my veins.
I want to suck sap bleeding from the tree, and dine on the lost sound of the whippoorwill.
God, let me die a small death of beauty, and be reborn in an orgasm of **** all get out!
No qualms. Buddy. I love your work. It looks like you ****ed yourself a good one.
And what came was all this edible goodness. Like Dali, I want to eat it. All.
Now, like I promised you, I'll give back. I'll play your hypnotic song
and sing to your soiled minions. I'll take heed in your loving whispers
and open up my heart for your midnight snack. I'll clean up your moonspill
and read to you that silly book of yours, the one about the golden rule
and those twelve dudes. (Sorry God, not my cup of tea).
Draw a bath for your daughters, and draw back the bow for your sons, and ready the bed for Venus.
Sit back and relax, ol buddy, I'll do the best that I can
then I'll grow tired
Oh. Now I can breathe. The song has left my lips for now.
I walked myself into a lovely stupor, and you showed me
the rainbow. And I raised your worms.
I played your song, God.
(I hope that somehow, she heard it over the din of engine and whimper of dog)
I played that timeless song, or you played me.
Either way, it's still the day
that the trees grew bright with sun
and the birds flew without flapping.
Spring is on its way.
Our spring is on its way
Just over a month to go
It makes me feel so gay
It gives me such a glow
We’ve had enough cold weather
I need to feel the heat
No season I like better
Each day will be so sweet.
I really love the spring
That’s when the flowers grow
And all the birds are singing
Because these beasties know
That mating season has begun
It’s time to raise their young
Beneath the nice warm, gentle sun
As the spring air fills each lung.
Soon the T-shirts will be worn
The jumpers packed away
The velvet green grass of the lawn
It will grow greener every day
There’ll be lots of barbeques
Where we’ll eat, and drink some beer
It’s always springtime that I’ll choose
I’m glad that it draws near.
13 July 2014 @ 1100hrs.
Peepers pipe spring chimes birds sing as the hummingbirds hum along with bees * * thunder drum rolls as warm breezes whistle in trees raindrop cymbals ring * ** a clean rest then brooks fulfill the springs gushing song instrumental peace
And the birds will sing
as they fly through the air,
oh, what joy it brings
they do it with such flare.
As they fly through the air
the wind gently blows,
oh, what a joy it brings
chirping as they go.
The wind gently blows
softly touching the trees,
chirping as they go
so very peaceful to me.
Softly touching the trees
oh, what joy it brings,
so very peaceful to me
and the birds will sing.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
sparrows pause in spring
walden pond on cabin's peak -
~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.
With every coming of spring,
it is such a wonderful thing.
I hear a chorus of bird song in the morning.
Oh how sweet they sing!
The rising sun is what I see.
Our feathered friends are sounding off in harmony.
They seem to be calling to me
as they perch themselves up in each tree.
inspired by another member's poem
Tranquil Undergrowth so slowly grows
And hides the tiny timeless leaves of life
Arrows spring forth on sunlight bows
Joined by birds of green and white in flight
Piercing bursting life into the light
Golden butterflies glisten in the new suns birth
Untangling night from day
From covered secrets in the earth
Where sacred is the spot to pray
And love comes out to play
Winged Spring bursts forth in cosmic splendor
To breathe the world to life
What joy to find you at your door
So beautiful and nice
As we explore together loves every spice
Tranquil undergrowth so slowly grows from the earth
And hides so quietly the tiny timeless leaves of life
Now we have our time for playful mirth and worth
In pools of warmer waters that ease our strife
Where you remain my lovely wife
For Spring to Come
For spring to come we can hardly wait; In every part of it want to participate; Hear birds sing as flowers start to grow Watch fine fields while they will flow.
Leaves turned green which were brown; And spring showers started falling down, With water that eventually by now brings Born butterflies soon with beautiful wings.
Sun will start shining more each day
Pretty soon clouds are passing away; Sky becomes Carolina blue and clear, After all of gray color did disappear.
A while now, nearby, spring has been, While we always wanted to see it again; So silently spring surely started to fade; Summer was here as we sat in the shade.
James Thomas Horn, Retired Veteran
Need your comments, criticism, thoughts and ideas.
I am entering it into a poetry contest at local library.
None can compare.
To the nude silver branches and barren expanses,
That the cool of winter doth bring.
Unless you equate the way the birds sing,
In the start of the fresh, blooming spring.
Or perhaps the warm air,
Filled with crickets’ prayer,
That’s found only in the summer’s afternoon glare.
But then there is the time of the harvest,
With leaves like the paint on the palette of an artist.
Such tender, splendor indeed, in each season is found,
For in Nature, beauty truly doth rise and abound.
Shawnee Doling-Tye 10/6/13
Beautiful first spring day
Bountiful sun then may rain
Be happy spring comes after winter too
Bright sunshine glows like golden grain
Enticing spring is here again at last
Enchanting sights of so much beauty and renewal
Every ray of sun illuminates everything so fast
Entire sky is now so blue like a precious jewel
Now new and wonderful changes after winter and snow
Nurturing beauty of spring is such a sight
Nosegays and roses buds see them all grow
Nice time to relax and enjoy the spring night
On and on my Master has created spring for us all
Orchids, roses, tulips and so many beautiful things to enjoy
Ocean and mountains during spring season stand tall
Outside there's a wonderful weather for all girls and boys.
Dorian Petersen Potter
'Trolan' is a poetry style created by Valerie Peterson Brown.
As spring is born it bursts forth it's green,
as the living woods look so fresh and clean.
I sit by myself and I close my eyes,
listening to the birds as I breathe in a deep sigh.
The birds they sing a song just for me,
In a world so clam they sing a sweet melody.
Seeing the trees of every shape and size,
as they bask in the sun from the early morning rise.
Golden is their bark so rough and strong,
as their graceful branches are so lean and long.
Woodpeckers are pecking for their morning meal,
an inner peace God allowed me to feel.
I gaze off into the distance and spot patches of green,
a wonderous beauty of God's holy scene.
Winds blow through the pines as their needles sway,
as the whispers of nature seem to take me far away.
New growth is popping out from under last falls fallen leaves,
as the sun beams down energy to earth's plants it feeds.
Slopping country side as far as the eye can see,
as a red tail hawk flys so wild and free.
Scouring down at the sight of a new fresh meal,
as the stench of it's prey is enticed to appeal.
God provides for his creatures big or small,
he never fails to give or in need if we call.
Seven Birds in Spring
Sparrow in late snow
Gathers straw to make her nest
Afraid to be last.
A dash of swallow
Almost faster than the songs
Of Spring returning.
Baby birds chirping
The nest full with mother’s warmth
Life renewed- the same.
Swallows hit the pond
A quick drink or bugs to eat
Do I need to know
Plovers in the sand
Four tiny chicks in the waves
Almost gone from Earth
Fifty calls at least
A mockingbird on a pole
Why so many songs
Every Spring the hawk
Finds the robin’s hidden nest
As I sit and watch.
Fairy of spring when flies high
To the core of the heart of green
Sleeping buds yawn with a sigh
Ready to create a magical scene
To welcome their loving queen
The earth lays a soft bed of grass
For her feet so soft and delicate
And the evening brings in a glass
The wine of love from the fate
To welcome at the hearts’ gate
The colourful butterflies go zoom
In the fragrance of heavenly fresh
The twittering of cute birds bloom
Newborn flowers like shiny flash
The lovers leave away the gloom
And sit under the green of doom
I walked upon a sparrow sitting on a limb,
her little feathers wet and mottled from a
spring swim, she played and picked then
shook her fragile body, stretching her head
out with a nod, she settled down, nestled,
she closed her little eyes, quietly, without worry.
As she awoke she expressed her happiness with
joyous song and weightless sigh, all the while,
I watch in awe and wonder; how nice it must be
to have a tree, to sit under, ...free, warm from
the new morning sun; Ah yes, I should like to be
a sparrow today, nothing to do but sing and pray.
Starlings wait outside
for the blackbirds to come 'round
so they can kick butt.
Copyright © Cynthia Jones
~Spring Is So Beautiful~
morning of spring
air is warm
to flower they
show their beautiful colors.
Spring is so
the perfect day
to take walk
around the park
and enjoy the views we see!
Dorian Petersen Potter
To Ever Young Spring
O enchanting flavor, of the beautiful Spring
Why you always look, so different to me
Seasons come and seasons go, every year
But why only the Spring, enchants everyone
Why the mind get lost by the flavor of Spring
Even birds returns from their migrating hides
Why sweet sensations runs in human hearts
Why life began to look so different in Spring
Why the Koyal* keep on singing and singing
Why the smell of Mango buds creates thrills in mind
Where on earth this intoxicating wine is being made
Which sweeps away our mind and heart in Spring
And where in Nature the nectar of Spring is hidden
Which intoxicates humans, birds and even animals
Why in Spring, images began to appear gradually
On the other wise sleeping, but turning pages of life
The Butterflies are flying from the top of the flowers
To invite Black bee and others to enjoy the Spring
What ever may be the stage of life in which, one may be
In the season of Spring only, one feels young and evergreen
Why my mind has started searching on its own
Sensing the dawn of the season of Spring near by
Why even in our life, we find some day that even in Spring
Even the enchanting fragrance too began to feign oneday
Why the mind cheated and illusion by seasons
Becomes anxious and began to feel young again
By watching the new born leaves on every trees
And finding them dancing with breeze in Spring
Why the singing of Koyal’s * kuhoo* kuhoo*
Leaves the impression of some anguish always
Silently the heart keeps on searching throughout the year
The grandeur and melody of the Spring singer
When the childhood has ever come back again
And when the youth has ever returned, once gone
Only on the pages of our memories and in our hearts
Their fragrance remain always alive and ever young
Kanpur India 2nd March 2010
* Koyal . A spring bird of India which sings mainly in Spring
While setting on the Mango tree branches
* Kuhoo Kuhoo . the melody song of the Spring bird
Similar to that of the Nightangale of John Keats
A warbler flits just out of sight
High up in the trees
His vocal song comes raining down
But still I cannot see
He gives me but the shortest glimpse
Behind the curtained leaves
Whilst singing here and flitting there
In the tops of trees
The singing stops but still I look
Scanning high and low
Hidden now by just one leaf
My hope now starts to grow
Into the suns shining spotlight
Thos little bird hops out
For just a moment and then he's gone
I give a joyful shout
Deep into trees the bird flies on
Ne'er more to grace my eye
But with my glass I search on still
To fine one more surprise