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Sonnet Spring Poems | Sonnet Poems About Spring

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

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Details | Sonnet | |

A Bed of Pink Petals

One April day when spring was in the air,
I stepped outside so I might relish it.
I came upon a cherry tree so fair,
beneath its limbs I was enticed to sit.

I fell to sleep inhaling fragrant bliss -
the vision of the tree still in my brain.
I dreamed one sweet, pink petal, like a kiss,
fell on my cheek, and soon there was a rain. . . 

A rain of lovely silken blossoms! Then
they softly made a pile upon the ground.
Warm wind embraced me; that’s the moment when 
I woke to pink resplendence all around!

Upon a bed of petals I then lay.
Inside a dream I had no need to stay!


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Down Where The Roses Bloom

Down where roses bloom in the month of June
The scented petals will mature and fall
Carried by zephrys of spring like balloons
Those petals in the wind over land sprawl

Pale pink petals carried away to land 
With a gental touch of kindness caress
The spring grasses with a delicate hand
Courteous as it lands with politesse

Each petal waits in turn to fly away
Their patience is long, each holds 'til time
They then 'pon the wind float and not betray
The Spirit within which is one sublime

Down where the roses bloom may the fruit grow
Let love lead as petals upon wind flow  

Sponsor: Gail Angel Doyle
Contest: Petals In The Wind
Written this 23rd day of January 2013
Written by: Sara Kendrick


Details | Sonnet | |

March Goosebumps

See how the wind's of March bluster, torment; they break boughs and chase the fallen leaves. Oh hear, the frozen garden bed's lament, as twigs across the way skate 'cross the pond. And, do you feel the goosebumps through your sleeves and the chill of daffodil as it responds? The buds which bend, wind burnt, forlorn, attend The wild wolf wind nips at spring's fragile tips of infant green and willows which transcend as they with golden blossoms grow rows high. See the forsythia limbs, they bend and whip but soon they'll dance beneath a clear blue sky See how the wind's of March bluster, torment, the buds which bend, wind burnt, forlorn attend.


Details | Sonnet | |

A Love for All Seasons

At the spring celebration Jill had a head start
She danced across the floor straight to his open heart
Lit by love and glowing like an eternal flame
Passion in motion ere she even knew his name
 
When he first took her hand, she felt electrified
In the months that ensued feelings intensified
Carpet of crimson rose petals strewn on her bed
The pair gave not a thought to what might lie ahead
 
But when the festive holiday season came ‘round
A garland of fir branches on her head he crowned
As he knelt before her in front of the fireplace
In a blanket of tender love she felt encased
 
Bowing before her, he presented a diamond ring
For their love affair proved to be more than a spring fling
 
 
*Entry for Brian's 100th Anniversary poem challenge on Aspects of Love


Details | Sonnet | |

I Love Spring

It''s great to see the leaves again
To see the flowers grow
Spring excites me so
I love the freshness of the rain
I can shake off winter's aches and pains
As I listen to the March winds blow
Spring is a wonderful time I know
Spring is here to keep me sane
Now I hear the red robin chirp
I see the sun shining bright
I want to play and not work
Out in the pretty sunlight
Where life is new and pure
I love Spring of that I'm sure!


Details | Sonnet | |

Love Spring -win

Love like a spring that never stops flowing On the arrival at this spring suddenly Venture and rush not to drink devouring Ease, stop and rest for a while quietly. Linger on the long road you have travelled Into your hands then catch up the water Keep your palms, like a cup fully folded Elevate it to your lips with fervor. Spring of love is so infinite and chaste Panic not, the water will never dry Remember never to drink it in haste Failing not be grateful to one you eye. Now the person who you love is a spring Get it but don’t make the spring lowering
+++++++++++++++++++++++++++ Motif: Philosophical/Spiritual 2-14-14 Dr. Ram Mehta Form: Sonnet (Only Pentameter) Second Place Win Contest: Impress Me with Short Poems III by Giorgio V


Details | Sonnet | |

MEGAN'S HIT - the Baseball Sonnet

      MEGANS HIT - the Baseball Sonnet
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"

I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!

I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!

    He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
    to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!

                    II.

"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
(the umpire was my Daddy, in this game.)

I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!

"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!

   Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
   while I choked up--and readied for a hit!
   
                   III.

All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"

The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!

I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!

   The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
   a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!

                   IV.

The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!

The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be 
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!

The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"

   Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
   and on his heels--I made my promise good!

                V.

We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!

The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!

I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me!
        
    Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
    the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka Vee Bdosa the Doylestown Poet


Details | Sonnet | |

SEASONS OF LIFE

                      seasons is the relationship.
                                 changes a lot.
                      SUMMER tells us the value of FRIENDS.
                                  WINTER tells us the caring of FRIENDS.
                      SPRING is about the quarrel with the FRIENDS.
                                  AUTUMN tells about the LONELINESS.
                      THUNDER occurs when you fight with me.
                                  LIGHTING occurs when.,
                      i miss my LOVED ONE.
                                  RAIN occurs when.,
                      i spend time with my LOVELY ONE.
                                 BREEZE occurs when you give a SMILE after a CRY.
                      that's the life,
                                 which i spend with my DEAR ONE.


Details | Sonnet | |

Legs Are My Wings

At some point, my legs begin to converse                
of time spent on the trail, rest now needed,             
For like a horse's labors exceeded,                     
the strength mere food and water can't traverse        
Beyond exhaustion, repose will reverse               
Thus respite, backpack set down and relieved          
of duties, containing my home achieved,
until such time as rested legs endorse                 
my return to trails, and onward I go;                              
Traveling far Appalachia’s way,                                     
witness to wonders and all living things,                      
in far towns and altitude, well below,                             
where nature’s flora and colors bouquet;                          
To motivate legs that have become wings.

Written: April 25, 2014
for Craig Cornish's Miltonic Sonnet Contest


Details | Sonnet | |

Bouquets Of Spring

Up a country road  Wisteria blooms
The soft lavender fragrant buds await 
Easy sunlight gently touches blossoms
Sends wafing aromatic breeze thru gate

White Dogwood blooms spot multicolored woods
Gently lift and fall in soft spring air
Impressionistic Azalea blooms stood
Colorful ornaments on creek's bend fair

Narcissus stand in trim and neat rows
Except at homeplaces beside the road
Where they are free to send out young
For our rejoicing when spring has sprung

In the warm spring nature's bouquets abound
Sakura, Tulips  short time are around


Details | Sonnet | |

Megan's Hit

        MEGAN'S HIT
There on the deck, I took a practice swing
tormented in the possiblity--
then hope was dashed--I found no hope to bring
up to the plate, when Ump cried out, "Strike 3!"
I was the last to bat--in this last game--
just oh for three, my record said it all!
And in the dugout, faces all the same,
the looks of gloom! Just waiting for my fall!
I took my place, right up there to the plate.
Out on the mound, the picher grinned at me--
as if he hoped to make my swinging late,
or throw me one--I couldn't even see!
    He'd walked a batter, waiting on first base,
    to tie the score, if we'd get in the race!

                    II.

"No girl can hit!" I heard the catcher call,
and echoed from the bleachers was the same,
we made our stands, the umpire cried "Play ball!"
and then I vowed to get us in the game!
I gripped the bat, the windup came too fast!
As did the ball, but where it should have been!
"Strike one!" the umpire yelled at last--
The fastest ball that I have ever seen!
"She'll never swing!" the catchers words for me--
then threw the ball out to the pichers hand!
While out on first, my runner waits to see
if I can swing, or only make a stand!
   Right in my face--the picher scouled a bit--
   while I choked up--and readied for a hit!
   
                   III.

All set to hit--I made it then my dream!
and came the ball--I could not swing at that!
"Strike twoooo!" the umpire made it scream,
then said to me, "You've got to swing the bat!"
The bat it weighed a hundred pounds or so;
"She'll never swing," the pichers eyes did say,
With that he gave his very best, I know!
I glued my eyes--as it screamed straight my way!
I never saw the hitting of the ball!
but won't forget the cracking sound of it!
Nor know again the feeling of it all
of this my very most important hit!
   The sound it made--that ev'ryone could hear--
   a batters dream--but pichers' greatest fear!

                   IV.

The ball soared hard and high past second base!
then seemed to drop so slowly from above,
as quick as I could get us in the race,
I watched it bounce right off the fielders glove!
The tying run was just ahead of me!
Ole "Never-Steal" now ran like not before!
And right behind, fast as my feet could be 
I gave my best! And then I gave some more!
The crowd gave out the seasons wildest plea!
As I yelled to the runner just ahead,
with all the grit that I could find in me,
"I'm going in! And if you stop--you're dead!"
   Ole "Never Steal" was giving all he could
   and on his heels--I made my promise good!

                V.

We saw the ball come by as rounding third!
Not once a hesitation in it all--
and as the umpire watched without a word--
he swept his arms, to make the tying call!
The score was tied--third baseman set to throw--
now ready at home plate, the catcher stood--
and through it all--my only thought was GO!
but if I did--I'd have to make it good!
I knew the ball was thrown down to home plate!
The catcher poised, and glued where he should be!
I had to slide, and heard the ball hit late!
"She's SAFE! She's SAFE!" my Daddy yelled to me! 
    Now layed to rest--our coaches greatest fear--
    the only game we won--throughout the year!
© ron wilson aka vee bdosa the doylestown poet


Details | Sonnet | |

GREETING THE AROMATIC SPRING

Transparent raindrops fall on thirsty roses' buds,
sunbeams filtering through clouds make them gleam,
yellow-breasted robins, pelted on elms, still dream;
the scruffy indigent with raggy clothes ends his sobs
by greeting the aromatic spring with a gleeful scream
and moved by commotion, I shake his hand that throbs!


Somehow his misery will end, but the long and harsh winter
he will not remember to awaken his urge of needed things;
today, it's the celebration of a spirit once torn by anger,
but spring will still his troubled mind by giving him wings!
I stand there watching his face being transformed by joy 
he runs towards me and shouts, " This caged bird is free! "


I follow his trail, and find him under branches fluttering; 
his home is a cardboard box, he'll sleep well this evening!


Details | Sonnet | |

Arise

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


Details | Sonnet | |

Spring Hope

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.


Details | Sonnet | |

A Spring Day

Once upon a spring arcadian scene
  The long cold winter hoar melts on the bud:
Romney low country lambs fattened to wean
  Chew in flocks upon the ruminant cud.
In stone moss stream, wild aromatic grass,
  The sleeping flower does uncloistered return:
But an ancient blood moon shall come to pass
  On the hilltop flax and green valley fern.
Soon the muster will shatter a false peace
  In cornucopia of beast and plume:
Nigh the yard gates will fill with milky fleece
  And only finest wool spin on the loom.
So becomes the burnt offering withal
For the butcher's blade is sharpened to fall.



July 1989


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Our Garden Party


My sweet Grannie invited me for afternoon tea
She said we would dine beneath the cherry tree
Their pink blossoms will decorate our place
And there will be spring violets in a silver vase

In the corner garden she always likes to grow 
yellow tulips that put on a brief but lovely show
Inside the old barrow beside the garden wall
Bloom daffodils who nod their heads to all

Asters and poppies, daisies and bells of every kind
As delightful a small space as you will ever find
She said that after, wed sit and chat about the day's
delights, and dream the waning afternoon away

Her garden was so much a joy in her later years
I cannot recall our garden party without a happy tear......



Details | Sonnet | |

Seasons 2 - A Metamorph

 Trees  in silent strength stand  bare
Yet in their silence dwells  the hope of spring
Though  winter keeps  them in  its  icy glare

Desolate landscapes  bare the scars of winter's sting
 And hardly a creature utters  a sound
 Yet in their silence dwells the hope of spring

Days are  bleak with gray skies all around
While icicles  hang from window sills
 And hardly  a creature utters a sound

As life stands  still in winter's chill
Those sunny days  are hard to find
While  icicles hang from window sills

Cold winds blow with storms that blind
But the hope of spring does not decline
Those sunny days are  hard to find

As weary creatures look for a sign
Trees  in silent strength stand bare
But the hope of spring does not decline
Though winter keeps them in its icy glare
                                 ~~

 Trees stand in frozen quietude
Abiding yet in the promise of spring
While  winter plays a frosty interlude
As cold winds sends snowflakes swirling

Animals tucked away in their dens
Silently await springs arrival
But they must endure until then
To assure their survival

Soon spring blossoms will appear
Birds will flit from tree to tree and sing
Butterflies will dance on flowers fair
Abiding in the joy of spring

All those gray skies turn to blue
As springtime  comes with morning dew


Details | Sonnet | |

San Saba Springtime

Cold cobalt skies unfold their lanky limbs
The sovereign land awakes in zealous time
Where low mesquites abide the feral winds
Defiant blooms the lupine in its prime

Rainbugs pepper the earth in velvet red
Hungry ant lions lurk in lethal lairs
Dirt daubers cast organ pipes overhead
Mockingbirds merrily try out their airs

Scissor-tailed flycatchers' semaphores flash
Silent songbirds seem incited to sing
The wispy wraith of Winter whispers past
And harbingers heady odors of Spring

Petrichor, the smell of rain on dry ground!
Bluebonnets, the sweetest scent to be found!

January 7, 2014


Details | Sonnet | |

Seasons Turning

The wind turns rustling the reddish-brown leaves. 
Trees stand devoid of their cover and howl
Like bathers caught without a green towel.
The wind turns, the arctic soul misconceives.
The snows pile up around my silver car.
Outraged the trees thrash and howl in the wind
Smarting like young children regimented.
The snows pile up; the heart is as stones are.
The iris bloom, couples old, young elope.
Buds develop forth from bare twigs and grow,
A bald man farming a new luscious mo.
The iris bloom, the heart feels raptured hope.
The grass browns the dams are slowly emptied.
Branches hang drooping in the severe sun,
Young mothers at their hot sinks deflated.
The grass browns the heart resigns abandoned.
You seduce others, caress them and give
Love, mine remains fervent and I forgive.


Details | Sonnet | |

SOUTH TEXAS BLIZZARD

.     SOUTH TEXAS BLIZZARD
The biting cold of  early March's  freeze
fell from the Arctic northlands down the main,
and froze to death the larks beneath the trees
then silently it crept the Kansas plain.

It slowed the pace of life to just a walk
for busy Texans on the Rio Grande
and failing citrus was the stuff of talk
until the blowing snow was close at hand;

they slipt and slid on farmways coated twice
unwilling to admit they didn't know
how one should drive a Lexus on this ice
or where-from blizzards come and where they go.

      The rattle snake is burrowed safe and deep
        the only place that's warm enough for sleep.
© ron wilson aka veebdosathe Doylestown Poet


Details | Sonnet | |

Spring Hopes, Eternal

The January snow has thawed and gone at last
And in its wake a single snowdrop stands :
It grew unseen beneath a shining shroud
Which melted to reveal the hope of Spring,
While daffodils all spear towards the sky.
Already rooks have built their lofty nest
And robins, seen in pairs, fight over scraps.
The brightly coloured pheasant, struts on by,
His tail, a rapier, scything through the grass.
Against the light a dancing cloud of gnats
Hangs lightly in the clear fresh morning air,
Where hazel catkins, swinging from the trees,
Puff clouds of yellow pollen to the winds.
Eternal joy, to mark the signs of Spring !


Details | Sonnet | |

Oxford Blues


Atop the seas where mists descend and waves high meet
the flare of stars, that draw details where verses hang
and send enounced spring's sightly messages to greet
the Oxford skies of notte blue and eyes unsung,

splendiferous the ocean moons illuminate
above the passages of ships that mettlesome
advance beyond the skylines and scopes equate
multi-dimensional expand with diesels' thrum.

The nautilus become gray shades - in haze to wave
and colorful their messages on winds shall die
it is their voice in nimbus gray to fade and crave
the dancing layers of cold rains and winds' war cry.

Above the fields and seaward trips of compassed routes
on skyway paths the thoughts ascend and Oxford blues. .

© 05-10-2013, G. V., All Rights Reserved
(A hexameter sonnet)


Details | Sonnet | |

A Time and Place

November, and spring rain is at an end,
  Dry nor-westers warm days and lighten hue:
And landed is the Cock Pheasant and hen
  Who outside my window had always flew.
Home to birdsong ten acres extending,
  Yet my flaxen friends - plumed indweller game,
Know not partitions or fence lines ending,
  Only yellow-green fields from whence they came.
Still I listen for Wood Pigeons calling
  That out of nowhere fall a cotton sky:
In my melancholy I am stalling
  For a time and place that has passed me by!
Sold! Are these hills of wild and wondrous sounds
To the highest bidder, like coffee grounds.




November 1994


Details | Sonnet | |

Uncle January

January's cousin Fall left in a fit
For January brought her friend, Wind howling long
Denuded the trees of all their gowns knit
Now her great Aunt Spring feels no way strong

Great Aunt Spring has gone underground safely
Hidden from January's cold icy tricks
Underground or faraway supersafely
Waiting for Spring's return with corner tricks

Spring has a way to drive cold January
Far away up to Canada's great north
Where January cold winter wind that's airy
Really belongs, yeah Spring come forth

Birds and animals with heavy coats sing
With January but rejoice when enters spring

(Had started this one for a contest)


Details | Sonnet | |

The Potent Beauty of Paleness or to a Pale Pink Blossom

How could I’ve forgiven myself, 
amongst all the vibrant blossoms in the garden, 
to have missed you,
so gentle and subtle in your paleness.
 
For the world’s beauty dwells in paleness, too.
Eternal beauty’s in subtleness and the muted,
In the restrained and the ashen.
It’s in the absent and the hinted.

And missing you would have been,
Like a kind and tender countenance, unseen,
A gentle caress, unnoticed, 
A truthful whisper that was missed,
A never received blown kiss.



Details | Sonnet | |

Blossom Sonnet

When the winter winds have stole

   their shivered breath,

And warmer now, snow is shed,

   what lovely can bring when it sings;

(From mountains deep to waken sleep)

And gather the birds to their blossomed boughs,

   singing their elated woody sounds,

   (gently loitering in elder trees)

   speckled chirps in forest green

Neath budding Sylvan mistletoe 

   the earth is born-again, 

   ages old

   returns this ditty of long ago

   (til rejoicing in leafy worlds)


Details | Sonnet | |

Bone-Dry

The well that once had a spring is bone-dry
Rain torrential flow_water the cracked clay
Let the well fill with fresh water mile high
Then spring that comes forth will be gold assay

Just jewels of love will be given by muse
Jewels like Lovers' Knot crown royal
Help me to not in anyway gift misuse
Fill the well full with love above all

Muse visit me today as the bees hum
Visiting the Holly, Pear, Oak enjoy
The nectar of flowers to feed upon 
As lazily cotton puff clouds float with joy

Swiftly hand did pen twelve lines of beauty
Love flows, thoughts flow sharing spring joy duty


Details | Sonnet | |

Queen of the Hedgerow

The absolute surprise of your face
brings joy to the Spring in snow’s place.
The royal, velveteen, purple hues
glorify the chill morning dew.

England, bonnie England, Buckinghamshire
birthed the little flower of my hearts desire.
Whether Johnny-jump-up or Pied Heart’s Ease
these colorful dickens cause nary a sneeze!

Tiny faces peek from hedgerows and bushes
making our flower beds look oh, so luscious.
A grand variety of Russian yellow or white
each and every wee monkey a rare delight.

So, to you dear Pansy I say, “Hip Hip Hurray!”
May there ne’r come a Spring you’re not on display!




Details | Sonnet | |

Rose for all Seasons

Spring

As He looked down from the heavens above,
He created spring and prepared the earth.
He decided Eden needed more love
and made this the season for a new birth.

A perfect garden but man was alone.
One night He caused man to dream in his sleep
and opened his breast removing a bone.
A flower was planted for man to keep.

I am that mate, I’m man's flowering rose.
I was planted in spring in hallowed ground. 
Created in beauty the gardener knows,
the flower of man, to him I am bound.

No longer will man be alone to toil.
Planted in spring in God’s loving soil.


Summer

Now is the season I have come to bloom.
Thriving in summer, the gardener’s plan.
Born as a flower within the earth’s womb.
A beautiful rose created for man.

His gift of a flower since time began.
Companion for life, a loving soul mate.
Blossoming strength in the summertime span.
Flowering beauty at the garden gate.

I am that rose, such a wonderful fate.
Strength in beauty, I’m the gardener’s rose.
Created for man so we can relate.
I stand behind him where the garden grows.

Grace in beauty and feminine power.
Standing with him, I’m the summer flower.


Fall

Fall is the season of power and might.
A soul mate I was created to be
and placed in the garden at God’s decree.
Behind my man in the gardener’s sight,
a feminine rose is the male delight.
As I stand next to him, for all to see,
my mystical power that set him free
and the gardener smiled for it was right.

Fall is the season I start to relax,
the breeze is provoking my rest and sleep.
It is the season, our work is now done.
Together all year we learned all the facts
and memories that we, forever keep.
For we have been blessed together as one.


Winter

Winter lends a blanket of snow
here in the place where gardens grow.
Blossomed all year beautifully dressed.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.

The gardener knows the reason,
my beauty doubles next season.
I gave him strength, held to my breast.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.

My man smiles because of the rose.
A winter sleep is just repose.
A rose for a man, passed the test.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.

Winter lends a blanket of snow.
Winter has come, it’s time to rest.



Author Notes:

Spring:  Shakespearian sonnet
Summer: Spenserian sonnet
Fall: Petrarchan sonnet
Winter: Kyrielle sonnet



Details | Sonnet | |

Heart Warrior

As winter turns to spring I’ll see her there,
With eyes that cast aside my bashful mask,
And with a snowdrop’s kiss I am aware
The year ahead is now a simple task.
With eyes that cast aside my bashful mask,
My fingers feel the earth beneath my nails,
The year ahead is now a simple task,
She turns the wheel again so life prevails.
My fingers feel the earth beneath my nails,
While planting seeds to greet the summer sun
She turns the wheel again so life prevails,
I smile again as Brigid’s works is done
And with a snowdrop’s kiss I am aware 
As winter turns to spring I’ll see her there.


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SASKATCHEWAN SPRING MORNING

SASKATCHEWAN   SPRING   MORNING



Dawns another early spring day:
Garden is frozen on stillness’ edge,
Door crackles open as ice strips away,
White lawn,  white branches,  white hedge.

Warm breath clouds in front of face;
Don’t want  footsteps to spoil
Cold freshness filling this tiny place
And perfection painted at night on soil.

Silent  snow swirls all around  -
Saskatchewan spring in my garden small.
Chill air nips new shoots on the ground,
Hidden behind my hedge  and wall.


        Beyond the hedge,  a  thousand miles white,
        The  prairies awaken from the night.


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The Tritest Song


“Renewal…Easter,,,April love…rebirth”
Are easy, archetypal terms for when
Fresh shoots begin to green the thawing Earth
And fill with sweet clichés this poet’s pen.
At least I know what Spring is not—
The “cruelest” month’s not April, no,
In spite of Mister T. S. Elliot
Whose Spring and soul were both of snow.
But he was young.  Age brings surcease,
And Spring, forsythia and daffodils,
As flowered sonnets sprout, increase,
And decorate the rain-swelled rills.
Thus, in the landscape of my autumn brain
The hues of yellow and of green remain.
03-23-83 


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From a Deck Chair

Into the mystic and blue water purl
  I watch in motion season's changing guard:
And rising ocean drafts the far depths swirl
  Up silica sandstone cliffs steeped and scarred.
Silver Eucalyptus shines by the lea,
  And apple blossom in the garden strewn
Shed soft petals till fruit hangs from its tree -
  And chrysalis to butterfly cocoon.
So does my own metamorphosis end
  As the September bloom and sunned leaf face
Invites perennial orgy again,
  And new buds glow like clusters through dark space.
From my deck chair I'll sit back tomorrow
When spring's bow lets fly El Nino's arrow.



September 1995


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Where the Dillies Wend (Pushkin Sonnet)



In pale sunshine as Winter bids farewell
A pretty face appears to spark a smile
Of golden dreams to cast a lighter spell
And thoughts of spring in languid minds compile.
On peaceful mornings, bird song finds its voice
As snow begins to melt as if by choice
It knows it's time is done as Spring is near
When daffodils in bloom restart the year.
The viridian blades in breezes bend
To dance with gilded maids in vernal days
These images of Spring enchanting eyes to gaze.
And dreams now follow where the dillies wend
Where candles flicker with merriment and mirth
To Mother Nature's triumphant rebirth.