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Free Verse Spring Poems | Free Verse Poems About Spring

These Free Verse Spring poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Spring. These are the best examples of Free Verse Spring poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Free verse | |

SPRING

Stunning spring is my favourite season She swirls her skirts and drapes the garden in her finest clothes Dressing the naked winter trees and bushes with bright brilliant foliage Spring showers us with confetti of pink cherry blossom petals in the warm breeze Gently opening the eyes of the snowdrops, crocuses and daffodils They crane their necks from the melting snow and smile sweetly Creating colour and scent in our glorious gardens 01-02-15 Shadow Hamilton - Seasons Poetry Contest ~awarded 1st place~

Copyright © JAN ALLISON

Details | Free verse | |

THE OLD OAK TREE


         Oh I am but a simple leaf
         withering within the gutter
         one summer of bliss
         now! Just an autumn flutter.

                   For some; destine to fall
                   upon stony ground, a part
                   of life’s infernal gyration.
                   Yet for those that fall
                   within your reach, to live
                   on within your soul!

         While limbs that stretch
         towards the solstice, create
         vivacious veins as channels of hope,
         a pledge of foliation continues
         to endure what spring has
         furnished; autumn expires. 

                   Yes! If we can but learn
                   from nature’s complex simplicity,
                   that life be of a cycle
                   from the seed we are conceived,
                   then let spring be my beginning
                   winter my exultant eve!

         Let our two cultures
         merge as one, the
         decomposed humus
         to become the sustenance;
         our transfusion the
         new beginning.

                   Let us breathe the
                   fragrance of born again;
                   let each slender limb,
                   stout body bear our
                   tenaciousness, each lyrical
                   leaf our life’s blood.

          Let us mollycoddle each
          precious tear that falls from a
          angry sky; dance gracefully
          upon the wind, embrace
          on moonless nights, bathe
           in summer madness.

                   Let us hear the bluebell call,
                   the daffodil pray, the apple
                   blossom bear witness; the
                   clamour of the field mouse
                   the pitapat of the butterfly
                   the silence of lovers in love.

             Let us be sanctuary to the
             symbolic songstress, scuttling
             squirrel, vulgar urchin;
             a fortress for the warrior
             a haven for the pacifist
             an inspiration for the poet!

 EPILOGUE 

                  The call of springtime
                   we will invoke,
                     logging representative
                      we will gladly choke;
                        nature’s guardian.
                          “This! Obliging old oak.”

Copyright Harry J Horsman 2000


        

         







Copyright © harry horsman

Details | Free verse | |

Winter's End

Winter’s fury has long died; fading, weary, she comes to pass. Sunlight spills across open yards, blotted white - then, one last chilled breath escapes with might before succumbing to southern breeze. The seasons transform with ease. Subdued colors slowly brighten - in budding delight, rising, swaying, searching sky, they sleep no more. Pale cheeks, soft to touch, cheerfully blush. Love blooms in wake of warmth and bubbling sounds of children’s laughter. Under a hearty sun, bare feet and legs long to lilt as passion follows deepening breath out to taste the open air, waiting for night to kiss in the flush of descending moonlight – as shooting stars sleep no more. last sparks in the fireplace cool, no longer needed to kindle romance. Feeling alive, I soften to the touch of spring dew, the joyous music - rustling leaves, songbird’s melody, fresh falling rain; nature’s dance, taking her time to seed waking soil until she voraciously catches fire seeking summer like a lost love – a restless gypsy on a journey- she sleeps no more. Spring dresses earth in liveliest colors… and I smile, Overwhelmed with the beauty touching my soul and sun showers falling on sweetened dreams.

Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders

Details | Free verse | |

Any Old Poem Contest: echoes and whispers uncut

listen,
the whispers
of leaves
turn color
announce
autumn is here.

touch,
the echoes
of the rain
that waters
and blossoms spring.

taste,
uncut
the snow shapes
the crisp cold
ices the wintertide.

see,
the sand sculptures
that paint
that rekindle
a childhood summer past.

smell,
the seasonal airs
stimulates the senses
and the memories they carry.

in the glee,

in the hopes and dreams,

in the human spirit,

lives the miracle of life.

the magnificent
voices in every pitch
deep and resounding,
the melody

 of echoes and whispers – uncut.

Maurice Yvonne
Any Old Poem Will Do - Contest
For Skat A
Entered: August 29 2014

Copyright © Maurice Yvonne

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Showers

The Happy Field and Spring Shower Hand in hand, we fluttered like two butterflies among the fragrant flowers of the field and meandered, singing songs, along a stream. No agendas to keep to; no schedules to curtail the pure pleasure that we took in consuming every lovely hour of our Saturday. With our picnic lunch, we sat down on a blanket. Later we lay looking up at clouds. Transported to the wonderland of our imagination, we named them fluffy mountain ranges, bunnies, sheep, and Easter lily petals until they morphed into lopsided bearded faces, huge white polar bears and cotton-breathing dragons. Unexpectedly, the clouds grew dark, and suddenly, we saw and felt large raindrops splatter on our skin. We fled our happy field, arriving home - two children, wet and laughing, just as the spring shower let up. How were we to know in the springtime of our lives that the field and the rain from which we fled I’d one day write about as metaphors for youth. Written for the Spring Showers contest 3/30/13

Copyright © Andrea Dietrich

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The Mystery of Spring

(a Salute to Howard Moss)

Although it is not yet warm,
we have shoved to the backs of closets
snow-boots, gloves, and woolen scarves, 
locked tire chains and ice scrapers
into trunks of automobiles as if
tomorrow the first bloom appears.

Oh, stiff wind blow, hold back snow,
whose flakes unwelcome gust
while hearts claim lilac scent.
Oh, pale moon, come, lend your light.
Oh, songbird, drop your sweet notes here,
while old men's hats sail past
and girls push down their skirts—
with both hands—as purses cling
on hunched shoulders and hair-strands 
blow against cheeks. 

What is this howling wind
and who brought this mournful song,
this wild, feathered up-surging
as if tomorrow the world upturns.
We've shoved our gloves, 
our boots and scarves behind
the racks in backs of closets, 
locked away the sacks of salt,
and scoured the ground for signs
of hyacinth buds or crocus flush,

while old mens' hats sail past
and girls hold down their skirts
as purses sway and hair-strands
whip against their cheeks?
And though it is not yet warm,
there is the mystery of spring.

Copyright © Cona Adams

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Showers

Rain Dancer Days and nights of hibernation within the clapboard walls, winter winds have eased and only the sound of rain peals upon the storm glass panes. The desire to go out, to run, to scream is strong, yet, on the rain taps a tarantella. The parting soil unbound from icy grasp permits the spear of crocus and of daffodil and though the rain drones an accompaniment with the clock sleep does not come. Knots of lassitude untwine as child-like upon the open porch I stand reaching upturned palm into the falling rain watching as it strokes the waking ground. Cleansed are we all by sky and rain and wind rain on, bless the ground, let Spring begin.

Copyright © Debbie Guzzi

Details | Free verse | |

Spring's Commotion



Ohhhh
that crackle,

the ripple

that stir

the rustling

the patter

O Jehovah
that wonderful sound;

Your beautiful noise
Your fantastic gift

Spring !

Copyright © James Peranteau

Details | Free verse | |

Those Were Golden Days of Splendor

Those Were Golden Days of Splendor


Rushing clear water splattered over the rocks
melding into a huge spraying white foam
The sounds made sent heavenly tastes to my ears
the sight pierced my heart with love's stab

Stab that melds heart to a gentle Soul
a sweet pain born again and again so happily
Fast running stream in my mind's eye endures
stamps images with a clear splash of life

Just a swift stream from my youthful forays
days spent exploring Nature, the world anew
Memories time stamped , precious cargo aboard
faces of family waiting home for my return

Rushing water, a life in a bubbling brook
A memory, a love , a mental picture I took!

Robert J. Lindley, 08-26-2014 

note:  Looking back at the greatest time of my life. 
I was ten years old, rambling the fields and woods
like a roaming gypsy on the prowl. My father was still alive,
my mother young and in good health and best of all my 
baby brother was two years old, destined to live 12 more years.
A happy family of 11 children and two parents. Life was good!

Copyright © Robert Lindley

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Abounds

Uprooting the dreams
of yesterday,
time sows the seeds
of tomorrow.

And clouds shed tears
of April rain,
while winter wanes
and spring abounds.

Fleeing far flung
sanctuaries,
migrating birds
start heading home.

And on the winds
of open sky,
caterpillars
try new found wings.

Bright trilliums
and daffodils,
usher in the 
first days of warmth.

And tulips flaunt
their waxen bells,
atop stalks of
emerald green.

Copyright © Emile Pinet

Details | Free verse | |

Springtime On The Prairies

Mother Nature gaily poses,
dressed in spring’s majestic splendor.
For Her flowered gown’s dappled with
purple pigments and puce pastels.

Tepid Chinooks melt virgin snows,
that fill meandering rivers. 
And form long, lazy loops that snake
across emerald green prairie.

A golden sun imbues its light,
with a sense of hope and magic.
And gilding the edge of darkness,
dawn heralds its resurrection.

A watermelon horizon,
marks the birth place of a new day.
And pink cotton candy clouds float
above ribbons of vermilion.

Reminiscent of paradise,
the wildflowers are all in bloom.
And atop gently swaying stalks,
gaze up at indigo skies.

Copyright © Emile Pinet

Details | Free verse | |

Partners

Weren't we partners in everything?
Didn't we talk, study and sing?
Weren't we innocent?
Weren't we kids?
Why aren't we so anymore?


Why each has a life?
Why each has a door?
Weren't we there together?
Weren't we enjoying spring and summer?
Why aren't we so today?


Why can't we have fun and play?
Why can't we share our talks and say?
Didn't you promise me to be my soul?
Didn't I feel shocked and suddenly fall?
Don't you remember... anything at all?


We aren't partners...
We aren't... at all!

~~~~~

Blackmatta

Copyright © Black matta

Details | Free verse | |

April's last Flowers



April's last Flowers


I was watching carefully
The last stems 
Of April's Red flowers
Which were spreading their beauty and smile 
Unconcerned with the destiny 
That after April 
There would be almost no such flowers 
Of red Lily
For another one year.01


The flowers were smiling
As if, it makes no difference to them
Whether, they would be here or not
When the hot winds of summer 
Would try to wither and make dull 
The beauty and grace
Of every human face
As often they succeed in withering 
The beauty of flowers and life 
That exits and breath
Without the love drops of life giving water.02


The last flowers of April 
Were also unconcerned 
That they would shrink and would get dried
By the heat and dust of summer
In the days to come 
When the scorching Sun would 
Burn the Earth, Sea and Water
To create the wonders of rains 
For thirty lands and sky of the earth.03


What a great way to live life 
Was prevailing 
In these smiling last flowers of April
Alas! If only humans can understand 
How to live a life with the pleasure of love
And get lost forever 
Without the worries of tomorrows.04


The flowers were enjoying 
Every moment of their existence 
Unconcerned 
With the butterflies and black bees 
Which were hovering on them 
Since day one 
And were trying to please and praise them  
To win their hearts 
Like men praise and please the women
When they want to attract and win their heart. 05
 

The hovering butterflies and bees too
Were trying to show their love 
To all the beautiful flowers of April
Before the alluring beauty of these flowers
So that these alluring flowers  
May allow them to come close and kiss them
In the flowering season of spring.06


Every time these symbols of love
The black bees, butterflies and 
Even the little black tiny bird
Were coming close 
To kiss and to touch the petals of flowers
They were charging with a new energy
After getting the love drops 
From their beloved red flowers
And they were flying 
More and more high in the sky
Perhaps to touch the those lofty heights
Which can only be seen 
When nectar like love drops
Creates its magic on these searching lips
Filling it with the energy of love
Which get reflected in every new flight 
Of these beautiful creatures
When they fly from one flower to another. 07


And I was watching silently
With a Camera in my hand
While witnessing  
The last of these April flowers 
To catch the glimpse of 
Any of these memorable moments.08


Their silent game of nectar and pleasure hunt
Continued in that bright sunlight
As more and more new creatures
Were coming to please and to win their beloved
Standing there with its ravishing beauty 
So that, they may welcome them
With a smile and beauty 
And may allow them to taste 
The nectar of these red beauty and love
Which starts pouring it's magic 
With the approach of April 
In spring every year. 09


Ravindra K Kapoor
Kanpur India 2nd May 

   

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor

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Spring Showers




free 
as the wind
in song 
and verse
tumbling 
within my soul
quenching 
my poetic thirst

as vibrant  
as the wild daisy
each teardrop 
upon my face
I twist and turn 
in posy
lapping up 
the springtime rain 

with each 
pitter patter 
racing 
to greet my heart
I melt 
with each breath of beauty
drowning 
as I impart

forever 
in crystal showers
as I fall back 
to paint the day
from the rumbling clouds 
of dynasty 
quickly 
I am taken away

free
as the wind
in song 
and verse

untouched purity
this poetic birth

________________________

Copyright © Rick Parise

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Lover's

Clean spring wind 
     tickles my every pore;
          through skin,
              soothing my inner tempest with 
                    effervescent feathers,
                        surrounding 
                 my every 
            sense
      with 

      F
           L
                U
             I
         D
      I 
            T
                  Y

Powerful and tender,
       like a lovers kiss -
                it glides, 
        temporarily smitten
    with my earthy skin;
my motionless frame -
      exploring my body
           with its ancient mind -
                searching in vain for the secret 
      of my existence –
a secret stayed –
      grounded -

             for gravity,

                   Wind
                             knows
                                         not…

We rejoice in each-others abilities -
         mysteries, and
                   for a moment,

     we are one.

Him of the sky;
        I of the earth –
               a moment on no time’s horizon...

two lovers of spring,

        exploring the unknown…










Copyright © Kristin Reynolds

Details | Free verse | |

SPRING MORNING IN THE OZARKS

                 

Slowly rising sun peeks over treetops
causing them to blush when their nakedness is revealed
Only the apple tree is dressing yet in anticipation of spring dances
Green leafy buds appeared overnight to adorn uplifted limbs
Grass lengthening and greening by the moment
displays its need for a trim
Daffodils planted randomly and profusely through the yard
by a previous owner are exploding in a riot of yellows
Unseen birds chirp happily    tweeting a new day’s greetings
A woodpecker furiously hammers at an oak stump beside my house
Sleek black feathers contrast with a snowy white belly
and vibrant red crest on top of his head
An owl hoots mournfully in the distance
Each hoo-hoot fainter than the last 
as it settles down to sleep after a long night hunting
A night of hunting    oh where are the rabbits I watch in early mornings
They hop playfully into view crunching through last year’s leaves
A doe and her fawn watch from the far edge of my yard
Waiting for me to finish my coffee and this poem
And vacate my front porch so they can breakfast at the birdfeeder
 


----------------------------
(I have a pot of fresh coffee perking on the stove and comfy chairs on the porch. Come visit, sit a while and enjoy the morning with me)

Copyright © Monterey Sirak

Details | Free verse | |

A Night To Remember

So sweet a kiss
The murmuring tunes of Spring
In the fragrant breath of night
Hums within my slumbering ears.
Like the whispering trees dancing
In the softest dews descending
From the vapours of the skies 
When the soothing night
Was young with the glimmering moon of May.

The poor labouring clouds expanded wide
In the muted distance ripe with coldness
While the storming of the Eastern wind
Drifted through the blossoming fields
Graced by the sultry springs in the lulling hours.
I pulled the weary drapes
When the night grew old with silence
From a crystal window 
Mirrored against the dumb fields
Black with the night.
A soft mist exudes the dead wind
Curled around the nodding branches.
Then I stealed away to the vacant spot
Where a crackling fire
Invaded the mournful breath of silence.

Lipsing sounds intrudes the night
Upon the quiet slopes and verdant span
Where the blossoms gently bow
Kissing soft the silver spray
Fluttering in the starry distance.
There sauntered I
Under the gladsome sky
To pluck a cherry from its stem
Outstretched beneath the sobbing moon
That in the dawning misty hours
That silver orb of light expires
When the sun had greet the day
With a golden sigh!



















  


 

Copyright © Mustapha Mohammed

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Showers

Soft sunlight streams through Nimbus clouds A sign, a foretaste of coming spring When hills and fields bring forth rich foliage From humble green grass to royal heather Flaunting peacock colors to honor the day As clouds release their crystalline drops Lovers’ laughter echoes as they run for shelter B’neath the old willow tree, they stand; lost in warm embrace Soon, a hush will fall as sweet jasmine floats When hungry lips taste the first kiss of spring ~*~
4/4/13 Note: For Russell's "Spring Showers" Contest

Copyright © Annalise a.k.a. Audrey Haick

Details | Free verse | |

Aqualight

Aquafirs miles away in my mind
 warming 
with springtime sun
 lapping upon the 
shores of my memory

 sending involuntary 
movements to my legs
 moving thoughts 
to music echoing in my limbs

 Beethoven's 
5th. Symphony catapults me out the door 
into glorious sunshine

 hiking trails 

dormant for months (seems like years) 
staring at boulders  
basking in the sun 

touching bark on trees

 grooves of my
growth 

smelling the earth dug up with my 
hands
 sifting my life 

turning my face 
towards the sun

 warming tidal planes 

in my mind 

recalling the ebb and flow of 
me 
upon this land 

marking my scent in 
the woods (as men do) 

tracking the sun as 
it moves across my day

 foraging sprouting 
edibles
 as earth releases
 life  

pausing to lay 
down in prairie grass and nap
 in sweet 
scented 
dreams

 refilling all my
 senses

 for 
the
 journey...

                                  I have still to travel


                                                         I have still to travel...



03/29/14
© All Rights Reserved

Copyright © James Marshall Goff

Details | Free verse | |

I Feel Sad Today

I feel sad to day

I feel sad in heart to day, to see what is happening all around me 
The season of spring is singing the tune of autumn
The Koyals* and nightingales have left without singing,
This beautiful garden and the trees,
Before the spring would have bloom them to sing,
In full throated ease and beauty
They have left the nest and the tree and even the Garden
To see all this 
I am very sad to day, sad, very sad in heart 

Adieu my friends, you are the birds, who could have sung,
Many more songs and would have given many more dreams,
To those who are still in the garden, in the hope of a Koyal’s melody

But these are the dreams for awaken eyes
And not for those who are sleeping
As day dreams can be put to shape, but the dreams of sleeping eyes
Very rarely get a shape and are often get lost in sleep alone
I feel very sad,  
To realize and to see things as they getting all around me

Ravindra

Kanpur India 31 01 2010			
rkkapoor@sancharnet.in
*Koyal .  A melody singing bird of India (like the Nightingale of John Keats)
Koyal mainly sings in the season of spring.

Copyright © Ravindra K Kapoor

Details | Free verse | |

From a Tiny and Bright Orange Flower in the Woods

Hark! Don’t forsake me. 
Search for me. 
Look down low, in the underbrush. 
I will be good for you.
Though I’ve been given just a little of our endless world,
I have the glowing fire of raging cordilleras,
The blazing sunsets of Equatorial skies,
The lustrous skin of succulent citrus.
I am orange truth.

Copyright © Sergio Silveira

Details | Free verse | |

A Storm Came Late

Frigid, knife-edged winds from the northwest
sweep down like hungry raptors on 
pewter gray skies. Feral eyed, keen on destruction.
Late May. Sullen skies discharge sleet and glacial,
stinging rain. Threatening each newly exposed
green leaf and sprout. Frozen rain. Unrepentant.

People, startled by the velocity of a winter-spring
storm put the parka back to work. Vibrant summer
birds topple dead from their refuge or tree limb.
Daffodil, crocus, and lilac suffer the slow suffocation of ice.
Hedgerow and tree leaf are burned by ice' frozen fire.
The sun, moon, and stars hibernate for days.

Frail light and little warmth. Bleak optimism.
Grim moods darken. Wildlife endures.
An emerging cycle of life has been altered.
Days are lived in half-tone and sepia.
The sky makes no act of contrition.
The unseen parallels, the lands, ice and cold
north of the Arctic Circle visit their wrath upon us,
erasing much of a slate-gray board of life.
A new and boundless spring is cast aside.

Souls pray and await warmth and golden light
to renew and reincarnate a missing Spring.

Copyright © Brian Baumgarn

Details | Free verse | |

Spring's Sweet Reality

She wanders to a dream, a place Where weeping willows brush her face Beneath the branches bending low She's walking where a garden grows Grass gently sways, as cool as glass And timid blows the warming breeze, That fetches shining hair with ease With wisps of gold, which fly astray, Like meadow flowers, in yellow maize A melody of larks, that sing Of promised spring....of pastel things An amber sun, a basking glow, Who ambles by and whispers low Of meadows green and rainbows too How much she longs to bask again To warm a face so pale of skin But then, once more the threat of chill Upon a cheek, a breath of ice And snowflakes land upon on her lash They startle cold, like morning ash, A northern wind that stings her eyes A thief will snatch her scarf away, And thus her dream has gone astray And once again her dream has died Yet distantly, there lies in wait, A springtime place, a promised fate A path beneath the willow tree, Where sun peeks through the velvet haze Where flowers bloom and meadows grow, And larks sing lovely lullabies The earth will wake, to be a dream A dream with sweet reality
____________________________________________________________ For Francine's Contest: "Winter Begone" 1/23/12

Copyright © Carrie Richards

Details | Free verse | |

deep freeze

Winter days so  cold and dreary
Cause the soul to grow weak and weary
Ice has covered all the trees
It seems we are in a deep freeze

But Spring  is coming to the rescue
 Bringing  hope and life anew
Blossoms will soon  cover the trees
In will come the tropic breeze

Then will come the butterflies
Fluttering  as  they  beautify
Followed by the bumblebees
As birds sing happily in the trees

Winter soon will  have to go
As Spring comes in with gentle  kiss
 Proclaiming to the cold and snow
 That  winter thusly is dismissed

1 - 20- 2013

Copyright © Joseph May

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Showers

Winter blues are  passing, making a place 
for the healing Spring showers
the softness of their touch 
soothes away the deep grooves of weariness.  
The pleasures that spring showers bring 
mending not just our needs also the needs of nature.                                              
The tender green shoots of the spring flowers 
nosing their way out of the soil, to feel enriched 
by the sprinkling softness of a shower. 
Animals also enjoy the warm shower,
using their tails as back brushes.  
Watching all of these things bring 
peace and happiness to me. 
To walk in the rain along a sandy beach laughing 
at  the antics of the birds,  
spreading their plumage like a ladies fan.  
Best of all Spring showers means hope -
washing away the winter gloom
So I lift my face to the rain, 
to look to a renewed hope, to Spring.



Penned on March 26 2013

Contest of Russell Sivey

Copyright © SEREN ROBERTS

Details | Free verse | |

Refreshing Spring Showers

After a soft spring shower last night, the air was washed clean
And saturated mother earth brings to life nature's bounty
Wisteria, Jasmine, and Azeala's scent wafts perfuming the cleansed air

Last night's accompanying thunder and lightning
Brought nitrogen that restores  green to grass, plants, and trees
Now renewed shades of green dot the rolling hills, dashes of soft color those spring greens  

A gentle zephyr stirs the leaves refreshed from the moisture and rich nitrogen air
Now hidden within the once barren limbs a tiny bird's nest nestled with care
Soon baby birds will emerge to feast on seeds nourished from this spring shower

A gentle spring shower is a blessing for man, earth and beast
Refreshing, restoring, and nourishing so all will be able to eat
Spring showers put in store water to carry the earth through summer's heat

Out on the porch to enjoy air washed of pollen, cleansed, and refreshed
And hear the birds sing at their very best
Last night's soft spring shower assures their life will be blessed__

Sponsor: Russell Sivey
Contest: Spring Showers
Written this twelfth day of April 2013

Copyright © Sara Kendrick

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Clean

You wiped me out
The day
I was exhaled by that indigo storm.-
You stared at me with
Disapproval,
A frown sown to your forehead
As I lay on your fingertips.
Like dust in a dark old attic,
You disposed of me
To spring clean your life.

Copyright © Maya Kaabour

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Showers

They bring new life,
Revive the old,
Spring showers,
Wash away the snow.
These showers make me happy,
When I am sad,
They water the plants,
Both good and bad.
My favorite thing about them,
Is they hide all my tears,
They wash away the pain,
Of all my years.
I don't like these showers,
When I want to go outside,
Because when it rains,
I have no place to hide.

Spring Showers
4-12-13

Copyright © Stephanie Weeks

Details | Free verse | |

Spring Comes

They say spring is paradise.
Will I think so too
as my lips get paler
and fingers paper thin?

Flowers - all of them
poppies, reminders   
like the tissued kind
sold by valorous veterans.

Will poppies ever turn
to lilacs and carnations
before these fields turn
brown in fall?

Death resides 
in the eye of the poppy;
no wonder their smells
are sweet.  

I know the blossoms
mortal hint and
collect each fallen petal
for my basket.

©Kathryn McL. Collins
May 24, 2004

Copyright © kathryn collins

Details | Free verse | |

Shrink Wrapped

The days go by
as I walk around the man made lake,
churning the tides of time backwards
making butter from the gold and brown broth
a solitary wanderers on the same gravel path.
Always a person for whom the flow meant danger
from spring to summer,  I walk the scene
with cheery “mornin’s”
popping the insular bubbles 
of self imposed

Silence.

The days go by
as spring returned to my aged step.
The flow lures the weary mind tired of treading water.
Glassine eyes cataract dimmed clear and lift to blue skies.
Familiar faces grin back hooked 
on a cheery “mornin’”
Marshaled resources clockwise turn.
Forward thinking, right sided, occasion walks
from summer to fall
popping the insular bubbles 
of self imposed

Silence.



Copyright © Debbie Guzzi