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Dream Spring Poems | Spring Poems About Dream

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

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Details | Prose Poetry |

Dandelion Dreams

There are those who will claim
your hopes are but dandelion dreams;
incessant and overbearing.
Nonetheless they like to play the part
of something beautiful for your eyes to feast.
I've heard some folk say,
"Out of all the weeds in Spring
I care for you the least, for you cannot decide
what role you're in, and this conflict I find
is the greatest sin".

There at those that will wish
to cut you down, saying,
"I don't want no more dandelions, please.
They make this perfect lawn look unkempt,
no, these dandelions I will not accept!"

But I see them differently.
I have lots to say so bear with me.
These yellow and green gems;
yes, indeed, these outcasts of Spring
instill within us our inner passion,
to find beauty in everything.
When we start our mowers
on the verge of a sultry June,
what are we really doing,
but saying farewell to a dream all too soon?
Why fling meaningless droplets
onto a raging fire,
when this lovely world of wonder
your eyes could admire?

There are those who will claim
your hopes are but dandelion dreams;
incessant and overbearing.
Nonetheless I bid you, my friend, take heart!
And let us build up this world again, part for part!
Remember the days when a dandelion
was the most precious gift for any loving mother's eyes.
Remember the days when technicalites
mattered little - that those plants weren't just weeds in disguise,
but a lovely moment in time
when you saw so something so small and so petty
and gave it your own unique light.

With this mindset I truly believe
there is hope for better days.
You just have to open your eyes to see...


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


Details | Villanelle |

Dreaming Of Spring

Dreaming Of Spring

Myth is the breath of memory
Fables of spring's awakening
Things are watching we cannot see

Here in the garden’s  treasury
The magic of spring is hastening
Myth is the breath of memory

Colors  to spark a rainbow’s envy 
Every meadow and glade adorning
Things are watching we cannot see

Flowers  dancing in reverie
Bluebirds and butterflies on the wing 
Myth is the breath of memory

Spring is  transforming dormancy
Now as days  are brightening
Things are watching we cannot see

Painting  a picture of harmony
At last a result for all our dreaming
Myth is the breath of memory
Things are watching we cannot see

Suzanne Delaney



Details | Verse |

We Dream And Wait


                              Sweet dreams can be made of honey
                                   Do you dream about honey
                                          it can mean wealth
                                   Do you dream of marmalade
                                         it can mean disease
                                       Do you dream of syrup
                                  it can mean pleasant surprises
                                    Do you dream of dandelions
                                it can mean happiness and spring
                                    Are you dreaming of spring
                                 .... it will come, it is on the way





30.03.2013
A-L  Andresen :)


Details | Prose Poetry |

Hunting for Spring

We’re so tired, of winter’s, snow and ice,
For too long, we have been, within our house, winter’s price.
Why won’t you come, to visit us, and sing?
Where we’ll be touched, by your sun, so heartily, beaming.
Oh where! Oh where! Are you, our sweet Spring?
We need you, so very longingly!

We saw you peak out, for just one day.
Then you quickly, and suddenly, ran so very far away.
So we did a Rain Dance, and danced in the cold.
Without your shinning brightness, all we got, was cold snow!
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
Why did you run, so very far, with your blessing!

We sought the Groundhog, that he ask you, to come back.
But he was burrowed, deep beneath, all the snow, and ice pack.
He wouldn’t open his door, as we knocked, true and hard.
He refused, to even come out, as he denied the pleas, of this bard!
Oh where! Oh where! Are you, our precious, sweet Spring?
We beseech thee, to please come back, to me!

The trees want to bloom; their sprouts are ready, to collect.
Our hearts are there beside them, under this winter, and it’s effects.
We’ll sit here, dreaming of the beauty, only you can affect.
We’re hopeful, can’t wait, but now at March’s mercy, and redirect.
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
Our hearts and souls want to be warmed by thee!

What? Dragon and I see you! We rejoice my friend!
Our hearts, like the trees, are beginning, to warm again.
The snow is leaving; all is greening, before our eyes.
We beg you, to please stay here, solidly, close by our side.
Oh where! Oh where! Did you go, our sweet Spring?
At last! It doesn’t matter! We have you back, and all that you bring!

Written for my good Friend Jack Ellison.


Details | Free verse |

The Storm

And the storm calls to me in ways you'll never understand
A gentle call that urges my soul forth
The lighting guiding a path for my feet to walk
Between the stones and ash of all that once was
I stand in the echoing silence of the rain 
It drops down upon my skin like the blessing waters of heaven
Soothing me, lifting the weight from my body 
I feel at once as if I am home
Standing amid two dimensions 
Caught between two skies - here and there
The night wraping around me in warmth
The gentle wind lifting me off my feet
Drops from the clouded moon washing away my body
and I am left just a soul, an essence 
The storm calls me forth from beneath my roof
Beckoning me into its depth 
I stand among the reeds in the basin 
They dance and sway as if welcoming me
And I sway with them back 
Caught up in the power that charges the air
That threatens to sweep me away 
If the ground will just loosen its hold
The thunder rumbles a low welcoming growl
And I get pleasently lost within it
I am so small compared to its vastness
I close my eyes and succumb to the skies wishes
Rising higher until my feet no longer touch the ground 
My fingertips touch the liquid color of the stars
A sigh drifts from my lips
There is no need of thought to stay afloat
There is no demand to breathe in air
No crushing weight upon my chest
As my lungs struggle to survive
There are no struggles here
I make my bed on blackened clouds
And give in to the call
The storm has claimed me as its own 
It was such a struggle to stay upon the ground
When the storm would call me home


Details | I do not know? |

My Wishes are Simple





My Wishes are Simple


My wishes are simple,
my desires few,

to gaze upon an ocean,
and marvel at a solitary drop of dew.



My wishes are simple,
my dreams not too grand,

to feel the waves teasing my tired feet,
with no footprints left in the cool, wet sand.



My wishes are simple,
my thoughts serenely gentle, calm,

my heart resting beneath a swaying palm,

healing my being, caressed by nature's soothing balm.





Details | Verse |

The Tree and I

The Tree and I 

I met a tree today while walking under cloud ridden skies.  She was a young oak past her sapling age.  Her bare branches, still in winters hold, stood stark against an evergreen backdrop.  I felt her loneliness seep into my being, so I slipped over and gave her a hug.  I whispered to her, “I know lonely too”, and heard an audible sigh within her wind swept branches.

a young oak
stands bare in winter's keeping---
brown carpeted ground


After a length of time, undetermined, I slid to the ground and leaned against her trunk.  I was content to keep her company for a short time on such a dreary day. Nowhere else did I need to be.  No one else did I need to see. So, I leaned my head gently against her rough bark and as we both shared a quiet moment of contemplations. 

a woman sits
at the base of a tree---
cloud laden sky

Eventually I felt the cold and damp seeping into my skin and I shivered. The young oak felt this and spoke to the breeze in her highest limbs. She asked it to blow the clouds from the face of the sun so that we could both enjoy the warm rays… and so it was that we were both sun kissed on this early morning day. 

clouds drift
away from the sun---
a girl smiles

This soon became a daily ritual, loneliness drifting away with each visit. She listened to me, as I listened to her, and time flew more quickly by.  Spring arrived before we knew it as the young oak beamed with her new buds. It seemed our visits now became less lonely, filled as we were with the awakening of Mother Earth. 

new buds
on a young oak---
birds singing

I shared with her and her with me, throughout the winter’s days. We laughed together and wept together during the longest of lackluster days.  A friendship formed of kindred spirits that helped chase the blues away.  With spring’s awakening, our confidence gaining, we rejoice in the birth of each new day.    

green grass
returns to the lawn---
daffodils bloom



All Rights Reserved @ Debra Squyres 2013
Form:  haibun  (mixture of prose and haiku)


Details | Free verse |

Last Sonnet



Hither I stand, at crossroads,
And then I gaze, at the yonder end-
The vague horizon from where I began;
And all that I may ever deem
Is that- my days
Have been a waken dream.

Hither I stand, at the edge of my dream;
Then I wonder, at the depth of my trance-
An adventurous journey through the wondrous woods;
An idyllic stroll through the vicissitudinous meadow;
And from the final station as I depart,
All that I can ever say, is that
Perpetuation has been a rouge
Of fleeting phases of my life.


Suyash Saxena 
St. Stephen’s College.


Details | Haiku |

Dream Season

spring dream
a rooster stirs the stillness
into dawn
 
calmness . . .
jogging into
the spring dawn
 
hot spring bath –
the nibbling fish
tingle my skin
 
waterfall
I photograph
its mist of spring
 
train pane mist
she rubs on
the other side
 
spring rain
the scent of green in
the dawn breeze
 
february full moon
the beach tides deepen
the voice of children
 
spring moon
the scent of jasmine
spreading in the night


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