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 | Year Posted 2013
In the intermediate zone between heaven and hell
opinions and complaints, after much moaning, may
come to be held in common.
The way a flock of chickadees
moves through the woods, cheerfully,
each bird taking a turn on point.
All meaning must be found, here, in the middle zone,
notwithstanding fears that rend and own us,
of dying unknown.
A Spring day
the flycatcher broke its neck against our bay window
I buried it, somewhat reverently, in a shallow grave.
No differently, really, than I would a man
who'd died suddenly.
Who'd left footprints in the snow
which became wild lily-of-the-valley, running pine
then snow again in time.
After long enmity
Sally hugs me, asks if I've been happy.
A moment in a year.
February, the light is long, more direct.
It's meaningless, repetitious
but held dear.
Copyright © Robert Ronnow | Year Posted 2015
Such a beautiful sight a valley of snowdrops, white heads nodding in approval of our love. We wander hand in hand no more lookng back, just forward, stepping into the Spring time and the wonders of the new.
tiny sprouting leaves
flowers nodding downwards ...
Walking together in the countryside, we stop and kiss, just so happy to be together at last, lambs with bobbing tails watch tentatively, nervously bleating for their mam's shelter . A lone donkey in with a full of horses with their foals, is so happy as he feeds.
in green pastures
horses are grazing ...
springtime feeds the eyes
Our love has stood the test of time, new beginnings spring forth. Looking towards the winter of our lives together.
a glowing sun sinks
awaking lonely hearts ...
Copyright © SEREN ROBERTS | Year Posted 2013
There are four seasons in a year. Spring, Summer, Fall and Winter. In the Spring time, you can enjoy the outdoors and go for a walk. And look at the trees turning beautiful colors, you can also enjoy raking the leaves into a big pile and jump into them. We also know the New Year is coming with Winter. Winter is a cold month with snow, now the children can play outside in the snow. And everyone else can enjoy the snow also.
Copyright © Frances Roberts | Year Posted 2013
On a lovely sunny morn
Henry the lonely hedgehog
Awoke with sun as it reached dawn
As he heard some croaking frogs
With birds a chirping everywhere
And the frogs making their din
Henry, looking here and there
He gave a sleepy grin
He'd woke up from hibernation
All set for a brand new season
Looking forward to a new adventure
His waking gave him reason
To say 'hello' to all around
He felt real good today
He has a chat on the muddy ground
Then he went upon his way
As he strolled along the path
He saw old Polly Parrot
Old Polly he did make him laugh
He was chewing on a carrot
It's not the fool that parrots eat
But that's how Polly is
They both were happy so to meet
And spent their day in bliss
Copyright © Vera Duggan | Year Posted 2015
Play The Radio
Get Up And Dance All Night Long
Music Heals The Soul
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
Warmth's come back to nature once more,
to awaken our taste for love.
And subtle smells make our hearts soar
to canopy of leaves above.
Flowers blossom into the bright
rich, majestic colors of spring.
And purple, yellow, red and white
blooms inspire the songbirds to sing.
Gathering canes of wild roses,
we weave wreaths to hang on each door.
And girls hold sensual poses,
as boys beg them for even more.
These fun sounds of laugher and play,
once were heard, every first of May.
Copyright © Emile Pinet | Year Posted 2015
Ah, the september weather is here,
the trees turn firery red and orange,
and the leaves gently fall to the surface.
Fall is here,
and the grass turns from green to yellow,
the souls of many change their ways.
From going on beaches in sun
to walking on wet streets,
with jackets on.
September weather is here,
too most it is depressing to see,
such change in the world.
But I love it.
The girlfriends and boyfriends go away,
and that makes me happy.
Then I go apple picking.
I pick red apples,
from low, hanging apple trees.
and I eat one, while walking down the trail.
Fall is here,
the time of death,
the last of sunshine.
I don't argue,
I love fall,
it is so cosy and it gives me hope.
Hope that a day will come again,
when the sun pops its head out
and the warmth returns.
September weather is the best,
when summer is gone, but not quite,
and the cool breeze sweaps through your open windowpane.
I love fall,
it gives me hope,
that with death comes life.
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
Soy sauce drains
Into the white, clustered rice
spills . . .
Soy sauce taints
The whiteness of the grain
It slips out of my hands
No use...no point in crying out in rage
Though I was starving,
I'll just eat another thing and start on a new page
I'm hungry like a swine
I wish I can earn back my snack!
I'm as angry as a bull
I'm about ready to attack! Attack!
Soy sauce packages
Fall unto the dirty school ground
By bratty, conceited teens
They really need to eat their greens
Instead of junkfood and pizza
They should drink some water
Instead of drinking sugary drinks or
Sucking on popsicles obnoxiously
Why did the soy sauce spill? Seriously....
Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013
Am I crazy, or am I just talking to myself?
Look at yourself,
dacing through twilight suns
in sunshine colored dresses.
And you say I'm the crazy one.
Please, don't make me laugh,
I am too much annyoid with taught lessons,
of life and death and love is a magical thing
but I am not impressed till my Gypsy Queen
comes up from the shoreline of the Middle East
and comes and lays next to me, as we watch the ships sail
through the Golden horn of Old Istanbul
into the bay of Asia Minor.
You say I am crazy, Am I or am I just talking to myself.
I believe I am having a conversation that has no end about your beauty,
I talk to whomever has an open ear, and even if people listened,
Who would care about what I have to say?
Since I first laid eyes upon your beauty,
I melted and you took my sanity away from me,
you took my innocence away and turned me into a worried monster.
I love you, and you take me home with you
to meet your father and mother,
both poets who made love and created a beautiful poem called you.
I am in love with you, your songs you sing,
sounding better than a nightingale in the midst of the twilight.
Walking the seashores with your mother as I talk to your father.
He isn't listening, all though he is a good actor,
for he acts if he knows what I say to him.
I talk of you and marriage,
throwing of the rice, exchanging of the golden crowns,
the tolling of church bells, and a happy reception afterwards.
The honeymoon, meant for the first born to carry on the family crest.
As we grow old, I want to grow old with you
Nothing now, a few thousand miles of ocean and sea
seperates us from each other.
Do not worry, for I shall come one day
in the month of May, your mother's favorite month
and I shall bring along a golden ring, a pearl necklace and two roses.
We shall walk the streets together hand and hand,
and wait for the wedding guests to arrive and see us on our way
to new beginnings in holy mantrimony.
Care for me,
I ask you one question, Am I crazy, or am I just talking to myself?
Talking to white walls that don't responed with life.
I need you, too give me a straight answer, to love me
embrace me with your beauty and let me drink from your knowledge.
For my sweet Persian Bride, I shall love you for eternity.
Now, come off the beach and cross the crossing paths
of mortality and morality and join hands with me,
as we sing the nights away, along with the sweet nightingales.
As we look into each other's eyes
I ask you, am I crazy to love you?
Copyright © Chris Boskovski | Year Posted 2013
Cherry blossoms bloom;
the townspeople sing, laugh, dance:
hope springs eternal.
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2013
A season to delight, to sing and thrive
Birth of spring beckons new life
Casting aside the winter nights
Dancing gay the flowers bloom
Endless days of soothing clime
From the trees the wind chime
Grasses lush and green grow tall
Hotter days soon to follow
Igniting the passion strong
Joining in the lovers song
Kites brought out by children gay
Lurking ice soon melts away
Moist soil that promise growth
Never doth such time come oft
Over the hills the sun emerge
Promising the awaited warmth
Quivering underneath its touch
Rosebuds kissed by hungry bees
Sucking at the lingering beads
To fill their need for sweetness deep
Unfolding the rainbow stretch
Vast corn fields flourish much
Water taking silent course to sea
Xanthic carpet beneath the tree
Yonder lies the clear blue sky hued
Zenith of happiness is procured
© Nadiya (14 Feb '15)
Placed 3rd in the contest 'abecedarian' by Shadow Hamilton on 27 Feb 2015.
Copyright © poesy relish | Year Posted 2015
Effulgent sun proffers love
Above the undergrowth…of
Thorns and weeds
The moon unravels wonders
Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013
Sometimes I have the courage to think of the things that made me what I am today,
My memory takes me back to terrible things far away far off into my bitter past,
My mind like a maze of dirty black alleys that smell of waste, loss and disgust,
The losses, the drink ripped away, not happy until it was all gone respect as well.
Invisible thinks of a garden where roses clustered with lilies scent on the breeze,
Bees found stores of honey in the petals of a thousand and one different flowers,
Lovers walked hand in hand along its winding path a beautiful dream of the man,
Bright with the embroidery of nature where children played in new myrtle flowers,
As Invisible thinks of this garden it is neglected but flowers can grow with weeds,
It could put a smile upon his face, a face that had never known any joy recently,
He hopes a gardener can covert this garden get rid of ruined waste, back into Eden,
Tending all the beautiful flowers that spring up with the weeds and smell gladness.
If he helped the gardener in his quest a hand might hold his and guide him through,
Maybe a hand would go around his waist to support him as well as guide his hand,
Dare he wish that the guiding hand and the support would be his angel from heaven,
A dear person to help him clear his garden and walk down the winding path as lovers.
An angel that would smile at him maybe hold his hand and squeeze it so very gently,
Would the angel talk to him and tell him that one day they would be together again,
Her beautiful grace shining warmly as she looks up to him, to her he is her hero,
Not a drunken mess that cannot cope, not a dirty vagrant, but her knight her love.
The tenderness of this beautiful scene in his poisoned mind became real he smiled,
He grinned as she sat down next to him as close a she could get then wriggled closer,
Warmth from her body not only warmed him but gave hope this what he has waited for,
She whispered sweetly she loved him and would be waiting for him and they kissed.
Invisible woke with a start and was she not by his side, was she ever with him,
A dream another heart wrenching let down and how could he have dreamed the dream,
It was so real he still felt the warmth, the impression of her hand holding his,
But it must have been a dream his own mind conspired to deliver the hardest blow.
Lost in a grief so deep, his loneliness complete he talks to Sam his imaginary friend.
These days get worse Sam they really do please help me,
I need to change but I need my drink more what can I do,
But I need to change so desperately Sam can you help?
My world has cracked and I've fallen into the crack,
But what I don't understand Sam that I was once good,
If I had any courage Sam I would be laying in my coffin,
Why does life drag you along with it I don't want to go,
Just a bit of icing on my cake Sam it is freezing cold,
Did you know this is where I was brought up my friend,
Did you know that most of the people that walk past I knew,
Sam! I know many of there people but they don't know me,
Why do they all walk past I wish somebody would help,
Maybe when I have drunk more cider I might feel better Sam,
I can remember being happy but not what being happy is like,
As Invisible sits drinking shoppers give him a wide berth and they look at him with hate.
These people Sam they look at me as if I have hurt them,
The people they are not our sort of people they hate me,
Has the world changed like I have but in opposite ways,
My life is full of sorrow drunkenness and dreams Sam,
Old sorrows wont go away new sorrows should take over,
So we have to face both the old and the new that's bad,
At night I try to close my drunken eyes it all returns,
Sam is that the same as you can you close your eyes,
Can you remember the valleys Sam the ones we used to play,
When we ran about all day Sam in the sun rolling in grass,
The old stream that twisted and turned, it had lost its way,
Floating lolly sticks watching them bounce away on ripples,
Buying bangers in November and throwing them into the water,
What I wouldn't do to go back for just a couple of hours Sam,
Just to feel the innocence and try to bring it back to now,
To enjoy what there is to enjoy and maybe get better Sam,
But that will never happen Sam we are lost on an island,
A well populated island but an island all the same Sam,
People are not like ships they don't bother to rescue people,
They just walk around or just walk away all the nice ones gone,
I remember my school Sam it's now been knocked down and left,
It has all gone, all gone no primroses in spring or bluebells,
Do you remember Sam the bluebells used to nod in the wind,
But they have all been built on, whats the use in talking,
Nothing changes from bad to good Sam remember that, eh Sam,
Still drinking his cider tears well into his eyes his nose runs and begins to quietly
to sob. He sits on the shopping parade seat, shaking as he sobs. His throat has a lump
in it so he stops talking to Sam. Invisible sinks his wet face into his overcoat
hides his misery from the people that walk past he just sat there lost and confused. His
greatest sadness an angel paid a visit to the maze of dirty black alleys that smell of waste,
loss and disgust,
Copyright © Terry Trainor | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
Unknown to those with no curiosity
Buds, that dream of one day blooming
Being, more than they are
Touched by those who love
Protected by those who wish to love
Wishing to be more than they are
Buds, not truly knowing if they are ready for the world
Hoping they are strong enough
Wishing to be the best
You, Me, Us, Everyone
Copyright © Michi Watts | Year Posted 2013
A little bit confused was beautiful Spring,
She had to choose for life a bridegroom.
Who will give her a wedding ring?
Three men wanted to be her happy and bloom.
March, April and May vied with each other.
About their great love they quietly talked.
April was for Spring like a brother,
With March she just often liked to walk.
Timid March gave her beautiful primroses,
Out of snowdrops he made a wreath,
He didn’t want to know any losses,
He promised her the whole world’s wealth.
Delicate and sweet was April.
He gave her a necklace of brilliant drops.
The life with him could be stable, - he said,
She’d be rich and would get good crops.
A wonderful May pleaded Spring:
You are my love! Take my wedding ring!
Be quick, Spring! Be my wife!
We’d be happy together the whole life.
And Spring trusted the handsome May.
Without any delay she sewed the white dress,
For the veil she took the apples blossoms.
That was her best and the happiest day.
The whole world was whirling in the dance.
May was getting married with Spring!
The Earth was full of love and romance,
Happiness to all this marriage would bring.
©Larisa Rzhepishevska (Odessa, Ukraine)
Copyright © Larisa Rzhepishevska | Year Posted 2012
To die before you die is worse then death itself.
Time doesn’t stop as you are sprung backwards.
Now you have to climb forward.
Desperately yearning to revert to your normal self.
Desperately wanting something to spring you back to where you were, happy.
Copyright © Sean Fahrnebruch | Year Posted 2015
A life of beauty and happiness denied, of innocence
smothered like a flame--I have always lived; but when
I am touched by your kindness, O Rosa,
Now I am free!
I was dead before I even entered into this world, a
place cruel and without feeling, cruel and without
the love and compassion I finally know in the rich
lovingkindnesses of your heart, O Rosa!
They set me free.
Before I could even hope to bloom like a young flower
hanging breathless and exposed in the first, rainy
sunbeams of life a great evil--the menacing hostility
of a dark, soulless figure spilling over with
hatred--transformed me into a joyless
waste of ashes.
From that terrible moment on I fought all the ugly and horrible assaults
as his unwilling property, a child-gladiator in the arenas
of his constant abuse and
But when I know your forgiveness and now recognize your tender-
ness and compassion as unearned gifts meant for
despite my childish self-loathing
and my unworthiness
I feel the love and self-esteem denied me, taken from
me simply because it was too easy to rape from
a child whose only fault was that he was born
O Rosa! Because you finally arrived in my life and rescued me--now I am free!
Free from my years as an abused prisoner in the arena of his constant
abuse and attacks,
able to bloom like a young flower hanging breathless
and exposed in the first, rainy sunbeams
of life again!
Copyright © Ngoc Nguyen | Year Posted 2012
I had the best Spring Break yet!
Spending time with
Family makes me happy!
Copyright © J. W. Earnings | Year Posted 2013
~ Where should I start this poetic trace? ~
Supple summer, season scene
Takes off coats and welcome warmth
And tranquil under soften sky.
Spring 'O' Spring precedence over summer...
Summer host long light evenings,
Carol patterns and seldom pit-a-pat.
Fertile season, holder of juicy jubilee
Easter burners' night, palm Sunday pedestrian...
And good Friday chorus.
March-to-October, love you so much.
~ Hope I am not missing out? ~
Dedicated to the lover of the above poetic summer season.
Copyright © Abdulhafeez Oyewole | Year Posted 2013
The night air is cool and collective,
Running through my hair and face.
Even when I’m with people, I feel alone
In this cold blooded space.
It’s like walking through a garden
Of all your favorite foods,
But none of which can substantiate
For that one so special mood…
that beautiful frame of mind.
I only go there with you,
And only you can make it unwind.
I discovered a passion unlike any other
And in my finding I opened a world,
A world I did not know existed.
I’m on cloud nine every time I think of you,
Just the thought of you brings joy to my heart.
This garden holds many beautiful things
Many delightful pleasures,
Many cold nights,
Ecstatic times and unsystematic times!
But they mean nothing to me,
While I’m alone…
Walk with me through this garden.
Copyright © John Paluszek | Year Posted 2013
It’s a day in April
having a sail on Lake Windermere
lovely views all around
feeling at peace and no fear
The trees and the hills
Look so very green
Reminding me it is spring
With all it’s splendour so clean
Leaving now in the afternoon
to sail back to Ambleside
the sun is out, thankfully
feeling it’s warmth like a newly wed bride
Such a relaxing day
such a joy to behold
such a pleasurable time
a moment forever told
Copyright © Gordon McConnell | Year Posted 2013
I see green again
it's finally Spring
tiny, green buds
sweet as can be
that fresh smell
on my garden . . .
it's raining Spring
a blissful April . . .
Smell the air
open the window
take a walk
with galoshes . . .
brings sun kissed May
puddle jumping . . .
Jewel toned gems
emerald trees . . .
I welcome you . . .
March 29, 2016
For the contest, Anacreontic Verse 3,
sponsor, Edward Ebbs
Copyright © Broken Wings | Year Posted 2016
Let us whisper you and I
In a dark little corner and no candle light.
W'll wait until dawn and watch the sunrise.
Then catch a gentle breeze or watch a fading star.
We pick some flowers and catch a butterfly
We cross a small stream, sparkling water
catches the corner of your eyes.
We make a sailing boat from paper then
write a little song.
Soon will be breakfast, then at dinner w'll say a prayer,
And at night time w'll light a fire, and then we retire.
Copyright © ali hammoud | Year Posted 2013
communication from above the air
random as it doesnt compare
the meet of peoples taste
so many exceptions, unknown where it leads
but a friend can call on formiddible times
can suprize and place you up there
on that higher ground
where we all belong
they can be the calling we need
the lift that stands
the love we crave
we all meet at random places
or odd situations
we have the best times
the moments we never forget
the memories we look back years later
and just smile
thankful we had the time
and wish we had all over
again and again
always repeat those days
the real deep and meaningfuls
for what time we may have these tresured lives
that we share
may not be for long
but id never let go of those times
they made me who i am
the path i walked on
i might not see them all the time
but i do think about them
how i smile from to ear to ear
money cant buy that
no one can replace that
so with age comes being wise.. at times
and its those days that we had
makes life abit easier to live
they keep us going
and we never forgot them
Copyright © Aaron Wilson | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
My Madness, Me...
Confined by this straight-jacket,
strapped in, numb and dumbed,
a washed-out, has-been, also-ran,
body, eyes, the equilibrium of mind,
rattling like stones in an old tin-can.
Still, I am,
and I am unchained,
my dreams taking flight, soaring,
above these claustrophobic walls,
of synapses, and dungeons of stone,
swooping through green valleys,
taking a detour to savour the joys,
soaked in torrential, evergreen memories,
of a younger man, with passion in his bone.
My wings unclipped, unshackled, free,
I am, and though I am unable to see,
At long last,
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
I do not know?
Those Distant African Nights...
The shadows swayed in your candlelit room,
a cool breeze teasing your bare back,
streaks of lightning forked in the Johannesburg night,
as my hands stroked your hair,
kissing your soft mouth,
ever so tight.
You whispered that you loved me,
and I kept silent,
the rain fell,
the breeze teased your naked back,
you whispered that you loved me,
as my lips found yours,
the rain washed over our tender nights,
lightning and candlelight,
etching poems on your burnished skin,
a fear gnawed at me,
We parted ways,
and you could never forgive me, you said,
now, after numberless thunderstorms,
the rain that falls,
echo the countless tears that I have shed.
You are long gone,
happy, I pray,
yet the memories persist,
those precious moments shall never,
like the Jo'burg rains,
and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,
for it was I who was not worthy,
and it is I who is not worthy,
You were always true,
it was I who always,
to give myself,
completely to you.
Copyright © Scribbler Of Verses | Year Posted 2013
looking outside thinking what a beautiful day as I hear the cars, trucks, buses, and vans go by, but still thinking what a beautiful day, hearing the children playing outside , as the weather people say on the news its hot out today as they say that its suppose to get up to 90 degrees, people are thinking that Missouri having some weird weather, thinking yes that right, one minute its cold then the next minute its hot, don't know what to do, weather to get out the summer things or not, cause this weather can really get people sick, sitting here looking out the window as I wait on my bus, thinking that it might get up to 100 degrees outside today,
by: Sheena Shenia Jackson
Copyright © Sheena Casanova | Year Posted 2013
Ninety days till springtime
No more silly hats and mitts
Can't wait till robin red breast
Sings its happy springtime hit
It's by far the sweetest season
When that feeling is attained
You wake up each day singing
That happy spring refrain
Could there be a greater feeling
Away with that big red nose
You feel the warmth all over
Right down to your very toes
It's how one gets through winter
The promise of days ahead
Thrilled with the sight of crocuses
No winter storms to dread
You may say I'm a wee bit early
With my ode to springtime fun
But ninety days goes by quickly
Can almost feel that April sun
So hang on just a wee bit longer
It'll be here before you know it
Probably think I'm a daft old man
Or just a silly old poet!
© Jack Ellison 2013
One can only dream...
Copyright © Jack Ellison | Year Posted 2013
imagine the rainbow being
the dark tunnel
you've been stuck in for years
the lighthouse on the horizon,
that gets brighter as it nears
get soaked in the rain,
feel the sun in your heart,
let go of all your fears.
Copyright © A.O. Taner | Year Posted 2016