Trees wear a gown of bright emerald green
Where birds are nesting in branches up high
Parents shield fledglings so they can’t be seen
Until they can spread their new wings and fly
Daffodils dance in the warm zephyr breeze
Bees buzz seeking out these pretty flowers
Yellow pollen doesn't make the bees sneeze!
They will pollinate blooms for many hours
Young lambs gamboling around in the fields
Birds fly high in the sky of azure blue
I love the spring season where nature yields
Our earth’s a stunning place for me and you
Spring brings rejuvenation to our land
The vibrant countryside looks very grand
14 lines 10 syllables per line
Checked with how many syllables
N B How many syllables shows 'doesn't' as 1 syllable. the soup counter shows it as 2... so I have changed it to 'does not' but will amend it after the contest.
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2016
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!
For PD's 101 in a ROW contest -5 Contest
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2013
I gather images of springtime's sign,
bouquets of varied thoughts and memories:
emerging crocus, budding branch and vine,
the flutter of the robin in the breeze.
Symbolic, too, the lily, pure and white,
new chicks and bunnies, butterflies galore.
The fading, icy sting of winter's night
replaced by spring's warm day, long waited for.
I contemplate each image and I know
the thrill of surging hope that swells my soul.
New life, from dormant seed, will rise and show
how spring joy resurrects from winter's dole.
A new beginning blooms for man and earth,
for springtime promises her gift...rebirth.
Sandra M. Haight
Sponsor: Catie Lindsey
Copyright © Sandra Haight | Year Posted 2016
MAY SHE COMES
May she comes, quite boisterous, and so loud.
She melts the frost to orbs of liquid dew.
From dark of moon returned to full and proud,
and waxes bees and moon in breath she drew.
Centaurus follows May with eyes of night,
while pressing Crux and Virgo into play.
She'll gather breeze and scent within her flight,
and tuck their luscious song in her bouquet.
May comes wooing with her amorous hook,
and kisses deep and laughs at each and all.
In lustful flirt she holds us with one look,
and we're in love with May until the Fall.
May she comes, dressed emerald in French lace,
Sultry, yet always innocent and chaste.
By Edlynn Nau
© May 1, 2016
Copyright © Edlynn Nau | Year Posted 2016
I love it when Spring finally comes
The buds showing their little sprouts
Yes indeed from this seasons of four
I'm awake many sleeping plants shout
I love it when I walk through the parks
When these buds turn to a sea of green
Forgotten are the plants being so stark
This birthing season just has to be seen
I love it when I sit on the park benches
When the breeze caresses Sakura trees
The airs scented by their pinky blossoms
Mother nature and man in total agree
When I retire I'll grow a green thumb for
I love it when Spring finally comes
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2015
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.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2014
That Spring Love in Your Eyes
Spring Love’s in your eyes for me now to see,
And it reaffirms thoughts of our special love;
And there is no other place I would rather be,
As we kiss deeply under the moon light above!
Darling with you in my arms this spring season,
My feelings are of such passion with true bliss;
We are “two” together by His Heavenly reason,
And for this our time together is never amiss!
With spring in bloom and God’s blessing above,
My heart’s yours forever my love please know;
For I know our emotions are of the deepest love,
And for this Darling to the Earth’s end I would go!
With that special spring love dear in your eyes,
Nothing on Earth compares with this Heavenly prize!
Gary Bateman, Copyright © All Rights Reserved,
May 10, 2015 (Shakespearean Sonnet)
Copyright © Gary Bateman | Year Posted 2015
Not Again! six inches on top of the snow we already had! This started out to be a blank verse sonnet, but it didn't turn out that way.
The snow has smothered life tonight
Our world now gleams in flawless white
Below the earth, the bulbs’ low whine
impatient with delay of time.
Their voice is faint and fainter still
the cry of birds in fluffed-up chill
so hunger thinned in winter snap
with hidden food beneath its wrap.
Yet seed thrown out on top of snow
and cooked with peanut butter, slow
then shaped in cakes with honey glue
has brought to us a checkered queue
As daylight hails, we watch to see
this comic scene of feathered spree.
Copyright © Cona Adams | Year Posted 2015
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
Copyright © Sara Kendrick | Year Posted 2013
The snowflakes gently fall
on gardens dull and grey.
White blanket spread today
the gusty winds bring squall.
With snowmen built so tall
young children love to play!
Cold winter chills are felt.
Of summer days we dream
beside a sprightly stream.
The icy snow will melt
then nature’s charms are dealt
and jeweled flowers gleam.
To everyone’s delight
our world’s no longer white.
Sponsor Andrea Dietrich
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
The rain fell gently through the night
It tapped upon my window pane
Like friends from days of long ago
Who called for me to come and play
I listened for a child like voice
But only heard the cold wet wind
It moaned and whispered in my ear
Until it calmly died away
This call I will not answer now
I'll stay within my cozy den
I'll sit beside my friendly fire
And listen to the rain come down
And here I'll rest and dream and sigh
While nature plays her lullaby
(free flowing sonnet)
Copyright © Steven Mossburg | Year Posted 2010
The longest shadows start and end the day
like thoughts that creep from embryo to grave
so here within the midday sun we pray
to not be where the shadows misbehave.
But even in the bliss of summer highs,
bold thunder clouds roll in to snap and sneer.
When daunting lightning fractures purple skies,
its striking beauty slays instinctive fear.
A child has dreams of what life may become,
as elders wish they'd captured all those dreams,
but in the midst of life we all succumb
to fate and its bizarre unwritten schemes.
Yet in the face of unexpected pain,
we have the strength to confiscate the quill,
to change the tune of fate's unsung refrain.
Then, from our daring hearts, the ink will spill.
It drips on clefs that show us what to sing:
a world of notes that paint eternal spring.
This is a heroic sonnet that I wrote with Craig Cornish, one of my favourite gents here on PS!
I wrote verses 2&4 and line 2 of the couplet
Craig wrote verses 1&3 and the first line of the couplet
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2015
Spring And Sunlight Wrap This Heavenly View
Slowly I climb that very steep and rocky hill,
seeking the beautiful summit so far above.
As a breeze sends me that cool pleasant chill,
far away echoes, sweet calls of morning dove.
Summit reached, burden was greatly reduced,
as I saw great flowery meadows unfurled.
This the beauty God magnificently produced,
one of his many fine gifts to this world.
Spring and sunlight wrap this Heavenly view,
in a sheen invading my searching soul.
Each visit, I find feelings serene and new
relieving me of dark world's heavy toll.
Thus I battle with dark and unknown gloom.
By entering Nature's gifted wilderness room.
Robert J. Lindley, 09-24-2015
Note: I just felt the need to write a sonnet this morn.
Thus from my memory this new poem was born from
a place that I once visited quite often.
Copyright © Robert Lindley | Year Posted 2015
I see a life that has come from the heavens.
A life with the heart and soul of a goddess, squeezed in the body of a queen.
She walks amongst us.
Amongst dark, confused, vile two legged creatures.
In her lies the music of eternity, the conqueror of death.
Life and love storm in her blood, striking bolts of lightning to my heart.
The language of the blue fire flames from her voice
Burning the sound of beauty and serenity to my soul.
She is the flower that holds the magic of spring
Blooming once in a millenia.
Her petals of crystal reflect the colours of the rainbow
And releases the fragrance of the spirit of life's pureness
She blows a breeze from space to my soul.
In her I have seen the secret of life, love and eternity.
Copyright © Mutemwa Gideon | Year Posted 2009
I was wrong about spring,
for all those months I painted the blame on winter’s dark face.
Wave after wave of cold cloudy, darkening days,
saturated my damaged point of view. By the way
I am sure I will die on a winter day, blaming the solstice,
waiting for the capricious spring to finally arrive.
But my heart will be frozen, and perhaps not even alive.
God how I love the way you make the sun shine.
I was wrong about my fate,
I filled the frame in haste, too busy to wait. I didn’t listen.
I ate my own eyes, and blamed the skies,
I chased the horizon and wrapped it in lies.
Oh spring day, it is never too late,
to fill me with mercy and grace as I wait.
Copyright © James Fredholm | Year Posted 2013
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!
"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!
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!
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!
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
Copyright © Vee Bdosa | Year Posted 2014
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
Copyright © Carolyn Devonshire | Year Posted 2011
The first light of Spring washes away night
Penetrates Winter's forest of dead leaves
Staining each tree in a soft yellow light
Leaving my mind to enchantments conceived
Fading to dust is a sky of dusk gray
While sun rises with coats of flowing gold
Melting away clouds as they try to stay
Warming each flower so petals unfold
Welcoming soft mornings, birds on the wing
Quietly searching for their hungry feast
A path I will walk to hear them all sing
In awe of Nature, of which I am the least
To see Spring flowers, so captive in form
To wander in light, so precious so warm
contest Flower Song
Copyright © Frederic Parker | Year Posted 2015
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
Copyright © Michael Wegman | Year Posted 2014
Spring hastens with praise to gift me blessings
of sunlit stories and passion in beams.
Cold winter winds rise on raven’s bruised wings
circling high above lush valleys of dreams.
The morning skies birth sights of indigo;
then afternoon shines bright in cobalt blue
till late sun dips low tied in sapphire bows.
Lost childhood mirth stills with ebony hues.
Spring days please save me golden strands of light
to reminisce when I am older still.
One more hour of precious rays 'fore night
to drive away the clinging winter chill.
I’ll wish for sky's daystar to save a dance,
then hold me close in warmth of springtime’s trance.
Copyright © Rhonda Johnson-Saunders | Year Posted 2015
After months of white covering substance
That’s dominated the ground’s existence
Powers of the sky peer down upon me
And lo and behold there are green blades freed
Grass is coming in sight by the sun’s rays
The white fluffy snow has seen better days
There’s now formed in the middle of the yard
Small pond of water just playing its card
Seasons change, the melting walk has begun
White mass on the Earth melts under the sun
Finding green grass, pleasant sight to behold
In the sunlight the color looks quite bold
Spring has come to save all from the bleak scene
This process to turn snow to grass of green
Copyright © Russell Sivey | Year Posted 2014
My love, your breath, fresh as a spring breeze,
Caresses my face, with a wondrous tone,
As your sweet lips, approach mine, we moan.
For expectation, of such pleasurable tease,
For there is no time, for emotions to please,
Our brief moments, are barely, only a loan.
For passion delivers, future beautifully alone,
Our ecstasies of movements together, appease.
After spring, before the heat of summer time,
Our ardor grows; grows within each heart.
Our touch, Heavens blessing, to each other,
These moments, hours, days have no crime.
Together forever, our souls, never part,
Our spirits are free, to love; never smother.
Copyright © cecil hickman | Year Posted 2013
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!
Copyright © Marvin D. Schrebe | Year Posted 2013
The weather will soon be getting warmer.
Watching economics and politics,
I’m teaching myself to be a farmer--
Anticipating an Apocalypse.
It’s time to rototill my backyard lawn,
And remove decorative plants and weeds.
My ‘raised bed’ ‘square foot’ garden plans are drawn;
Ready to plant heirloom vegetable seeds.
It’s time we start providing for ourselves!
The government’s nearly in bankruptcy.
It’s foolish to expect grocery store shelves
To have food during a catastrophe.
Go buy your trellises and garden string.
Plant your future meals, because here comes Spring.
Copyright © Mark J. Halliday | Year Posted 2015
Welcome Sun you move in our direction,
the Northern World is waiting for you call,
will you cure this Winter's introspection,
bring light before the darkness starts to pall.
Longer, warmer days anticipated,
for annual gifts we wait with bated breath,
hints of life from those that hibernated
to obviate the threat of icy death.
Feathered friends return from far-off places
their gratitude translated into song.
Resting plants will rise and show new faces,
the weak have gone, this World is for the strong.
A time of change, of hopes on which to cling,
each year, three months, the Season that is Spring.
Copyright © Mike Roberts | Year Posted 2013
I liked to take my baby brother
And my little sister too
And ramble in the countryside
When the spring was fresh and new.
We would take our Easter baskets
And would fill them with delights
Culled from the drifts of wild flowers,
As part of our springtime rites.
We would take our gifts to Mother
And would hang them on her door.
She would say that she had never seen
Such lovely flowers before.
She said she loved our floral designs
Made from spring's first dandelions.
Copyright © Joyce Johnson | Year Posted 2015
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.
Copyright © Keith Trestrail | Year Posted 2014
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
Dr. Ram Mehta
Form: Sonnet (Only Pentameter)
Second Place Win
Contest: Impress Me with Short Poems III by Giorgio V
Copyright © Dr.Ram Mehta | Year Posted 2014
March brushes past us, in its blustery haste
And we, who stand where Winter’s chill once laid waste,
Watch in awe, the breath of Spring ignite the earth.
Around cold Winter’s girth, warm Spring wraps its mirth.
We know, after every death, there is rebirth.
Copyright © Michael Dom | Year Posted 2014
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.
Copyright © Mike Jones | Year Posted 2014