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
So sad..Hopping in and Out of one' s life....
It's Peter Rabbit for Pete's" sake...
He comes by each and every year...
For this they say we should fear ?
Just to share a Spring holiday ?...
He's a horrid creature, so they say...
He has big ears and a cotton tail...
And sometimes he even carries a pail..
Full of candy, and colorful decorated eggs...
This day is between Valentine hearts , and Green Beer kegs....
He's rarely ever seen...
And has never ever been mean...
So why are all these American States...
Having all these holiday debates ?..
I await my basket filled with a chocolate kiss..
I only hope his picture does not end up on...
The Post Office " 10 most wanted list "...
Eggs are white - a little chubby chicken is yellow
Easter egg - chock full of colorful candy
Sticky red sugar lips give you a sweet kiss
Old snow spots melts on the ground
Dandelion scatters gold in the trenches
Easter bunny jumping out from nowhere
with chocolate spots on the white fluffy coat
Crocus and daffodils showing us spring with joy
Life sparking - reigniting
Small buds unfold and dances in the spring sun
- Happy Easter - Enjoy Spring :)
A-L Andresen :)
Pods appear upon the sprigs of green reaching skyward
covered in early morning dew.
Soft yellow petals open and fold down forming a blanket
upon which the trumpet center will rest.
The sun shining down on the daffodils give a feeling of
daintiness to the flowers.
One of the most beautiful flowers seen swaying in the
A sign that spring is indeed bursting at the seams to be
As the spring season arrives and Easter approaches the
daffodils will be in full bloom.
The trumpets reaching to the sky in a wonderful display
of beautiful colors.
Again year after year these precious flowers return to us
once more to admire.
Entry for "Ten Minutes Tops" contest of P.D.
Written by Carol Brown
10th Place Winner
A is for ants, they love a picnic too!
B is for birds, you may have to shoo
C is for cake, maybe tangy lemon or spice
D is for drink, cool, preferably, lemon on ice
E is for Easter, the best time for a spring picnic
F is for flies, uninvited, they come and make you feel icky
G is for garden, an ideal place to sit and eat
H is for happy children, munching on treats
I is for icing, the frosty lemon topping
J is for jazz, this music can be mellow or get you hopping
K is for kite, huge, colorful and climbing high
L is for loud laughter, that travels sailing by
M is for memories, make them joyful together
N is for no, a word you shouldn’t say to Mother
O is for orange, gives a refreshing aroma when pared
P is for pies, very easy to make and share
Q is for quilts, handmade, in many long hours
R is for rings, like crispy sweet onions dipped in flour
S is for Sunday a good "picnicking" day
T is for tart, rasberry and coconut on display
U is for under, below a big tree, a cool spot for shade
V is for vitality, borrowed from sunshine at any age
W is for walking, a good thing to do after a meal
X is for xylophone, an instrument little brother plays with zeal
Y is for yellow jackets chasing the smell of sweetness in air
Z is for a Zebra picnic blanket of black/white stripes, colors always in pairs
I have always enjoyed picnics in spring with vibrant green grass and all things new. I have a daughter, sweet as can be. Picnics can be fun, so if you have little ones, they grow up so fast this may be one of those times to make good memories.
Oh No! Oh No! What has my son done? I hope it’s, not already to late!
He lives at a fraternity house, and surely, you know THAT intense mental state.
March has St. Patrick’s Day, Spring Break, and has, of course, Easter in it, too.
So they decided to have some great fun, yes, a fun filled month to happily ensue.
They invited a Leprechaun, the Easter Bunny, and the king of bongos, a gnome.
Apparently they convinced everyone it’d be more fun, to Simply… Stay… Home.
The whole campus flooded thru that fraternity house, in the party’s that ensued.
And they convinced the Easter Bunny to do jello shots in every color and hue.
He became known as THE BUN, yes, The One who finally, truly could fly…
And the Leprechaun danced till he dropped… to a great bongo serenade, aye.
There was no SIMPLY about this! As the music rocked the frat house, next door.
And girls were seen coming and going, at all hours, even passed out on the floor.
This was the party no one missed… even the frat house with the snobs, were there.
It’s said even some of the President’s security attended, partying there, somewhere.
Before they were done, a plan was sown, as the gnome found it’s yearly, new home.
Yes, it got there, in Washington somehow, on the top of the Real ‘White House’ Dome.
But along the way THE BUN was lost… some where along the never-ending roads.
The Leprechaun called me, our Dragons and Trolls, to help, to search the highroads.
The poor little guy was so pie eyed, when we found him along that crazy way, so…
We fixed him up, we didn’t give up, until we could send him, into that Easter Frey.
Contest: Show Me The Funny
My sundress hangs there limply,
needing me to fill it out.
The rains have been relentless
putting all sunshine to rout.
The ides of March have come and gone
without a sign of spring.
My raincoat and umbrella are
each such a ragged thing.
It’s now Easter vacation and
I’m yearning for some fun.
Today the rains have halted
and we have a bit of sun.
Excitedly I pull my sundress out
and down over my head.
“You must be careful you don’t burn,
is all my mom has said.
The other kids have come for me.
We head out for the day.
After downing the car's soft roof
we’re on our merry way.
Adventuring on the seaside,
water is too cold to swim.
The sandy beach is warming and
we are all young and trim.
In my canary yellow sundress,
I’m feeling very pretty.
To cover with unneeded wrap
would truly be a pity.
We romp and play like small children,
the whole of the spring day.
When evening breezes cool the air
we can no longer stay.
When Mother meets me at the door,
look on her face is stern.
“Why is it you won’t listen?
I told you, you would burn.”
My face and shoulders, arms and legs
are just as red as fire.
I meekly bare my shoulders
for the lotions they require.
I hope I’ve learned my lesson
as the pain is quite severe,
but my sundress will be calling
on first spring day, come next year.
By: Joyce Johnson
For Constance LaFrance's contest "The Sundress" Won 4th place
The snow that shrinks in the glen and the wood
Would gladly stay through the spring if it could.
While clouds have flown to free the sapphire sky,
The liquid snow of winter tumbles by.
It melts into puddles of liquid gold
As the sun's growing warmth exiles the cold.
The warming sun highlights the tips of trees,
Inviting new growth, encouraging bees.
The swaying daffodils are in full bloom,
Yet others sleep in Mother Nature’s womb.
Tiny green buds are peeking from the trees
And big, white blossoms are soon to be seen!
The spring flowers raise their heads to the sun,
Soon to be used for Easter bonnet fun.
*In the order they appear here, these seven couplets were written by: Craig Cornish, Isaiah Zerbst, Heather Ober, David Williams, Jack Horne, Andrea Dietrich, and Seren Roberts. Thanks for participating, guys! :)
It's been nine years, I have counted the tears-
they have made trails of guilt
worried into my heart
then filled with loneliness and bitter despair
but by your grace I have been shown...
For the first time, in these nine years, I have not wept
nor held a vigil to honor our grief
though the loss still burns, this time it is transformed
Peace from your love still reaches through death
and through your eternal love I am reborn
It is Good Friday.
When God took your spirit home
and left me dying to know,
how to love him for his sacrifice
when he asked me to give up you?
How do I heal this death and rise with you in his arms?
Through your love I was born, and in your arms I grew
and it has been your love the kept me whole
that taught me how to be reborn
for even though your body has gone
your words lost in the wind and breath no more
The essence of grace and strength you lived
- it grows still in your daughter soul
My being and existence came from your womb
my heart and mind shaped by your enlightenment
I have lived a life you gave me and for once
I live it in pride to honor your sacrifice
your words giving me the guidance I'd lost nine years ago.
Alas, I've come to know, that as you died
and went home with our Lord, you saved me from my death
not in your dying, my grief and love can attest,
but in your living strength and loving example
you showed me how to live a life
open to our Father's gift
We knew it would not wait, but the parting was too fast.
I sat in thought three days before your sleep and asked,
"In three days time my savior died, I wonder hence
what of my soul will rise with his?"
And now sitting Easter morning,
holding my sons candy-filled basket,
I realized Three days passed.
He took you home Friday morn, but left me love,
that eternal love that never dies
whose comfort is unending
I honor your love by giving it to my children
and Easter morning I felt your hug, your kiss, and knew
you have never left me
Though God took you home Mom
I know you have never left me
for as our Savior died and rose
you too still live in my heart,
showing me proof our Father's blessings
because you, my love, are my soul and all ready there
there fore I am strong enough to give this pain up
to honor his sacrifice and transcend,
to be humbled by the grace and mercy
that could forgive such lost lambs as I
Let The World See.
He stalks the night, especially towards dawn;
extinguish and collects light.
Sometimes when there has been a car accident or
a bomb has exploded,
you can see his shadow on a hilltop looking down.
He has a sack slung on his back-just like Santa
- ready to collect smothered
light. Perhaps he’s a shaman who knows how to
relit the light?
He lives a place that is never dark, ‘cause there is
always places where
the sun shines while we sleep.
He knows this and is therefore busy towards
dawn, wherever it begins.
The collector of light has many names but no one
has seen his face, except
the mad and they are best locked up,
they must not be allowed to tell us god,
is also the killer of man.
in the early rain bowing and kissing the ground sun lifted spirit
I do not write in April, because that’s the month that comes before May.
I do not write in April, because then June would arrive in total disarray!
I do not write in April, now, although I have before this day.
I do not write in April, actually, although with words I’m known to play.
I do not write in April, when there’s ANZAC’s, Easter and Palm Sunday.
I do not write in April, and from that delicate decree I’ll not go astray.
I do not write in April, but exactly why, I can’t quite say.
I do not write in April, and it’s for the best, that here, I don’t betray.
I do not write in April, although I do read papers from my in-tray.
I do not write in April, so you won’t find any papers in my out-tray.
I do not write in April, when I’m outside whiling my time away.
I do not write in April, for that fills my insides with strange dismay!
I do not write in April, for I’ll not wear a wreath like a gloomy lay!
I do not write in April, but I’ll cheerfully whistle down your way.
I do not write in April come whatever, come what may.
I do not write in April. I do not write in April I say!
I do not write in April, but I’d gladly sing a song for Spring to stay.
It is time
Too long in bed
Cast off the bonds of Hypnos
Cold white sheets retreat
I am free
My head lifts
Sun caresses my face
I rise, standing tall
Naked for all to see
It is spring
Spring begins as a spring, the roads shining wet, the earth desultory floats the water as
the lawns are pricking green welcoming the Spring. At dawn the birds chatter with delight
at the worms' awful plight while commuters mutter imprecations to one and all as if
weather lore will do for us all, until they remember the Easter holiday that still seems so
far off as the weather seems to be spoiling our lot.
Snow shovels the warm dry sunny weather we had for over a week far away as it reminds
us of its power to be bloody awkward of its own accord.
In Spring we all fancy a smile that is not wry and weather to warm our bodies and souls
after a grotty winter. Let us Hope!
A cloud of polished steel hangs over
The village, hollowed eyed people
Look up to the sky
Where is spring this year?
Like the man on the bridge they can
take no more.
For Paulo, the old carpenter it was
all too much, no wine could still his angst
of not seeing another spring and
his nightly screams echoed till dawn.
Dogs barked his time was over
hanging in the shed between his tractor
This shook the village out of stupor
No more waiting for what may never come,
a pig was slaughtered its blood an offering
to life itself.
The feast lasted for days.
Daffodils bunch, spring has sprung,
Sun raises higher to waken sleepy heads;
No time for hibernation now as spring fever hits, -
create time to get together; go fly a kite,
or sit and chill, make daisy chains.
Let the sunshine bring warm sunny days.
In meadows baby lambs take their first steps;
whilst mad March hare hops and plays
with baby bunnies dotting the green fields
of the countryside.
A season where everything wants to bloom,
time to trim those lawns and weed again;
and all just in time before spring rains
will once more aid those thirsty
flowers and bulbs as they grow.
For it is now that gorgeous butterflies
flutter gracefully by giving nature a helping hand;
pollinating the kingdom while watching little chicks -
crack open their Easter eggs, just in time
to join in the madness of this happy holiday season.