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Spring Nostalgia Poems | Spring Poems About Nostalgia

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

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Details | Narrative | |

BEFORE SPRING CAME

Before spring came, in late February
to the blooming and jolly hills 
I ran, breathing heavily and frantically,
touching the perfumed blossoms 
of a solitary, old cherry tree;
and underneath it I sat writing poetry
that hadn't a perfect rhyme and beat! 
Weren't my skills marred by imperfections?    



Canaries and red-breasted robins
flew down and rested on my outstretched legs;
perusing my lines to spot their names,
and when they did, they flapped their wings in gladness!
I could have imagined their joyful words,.
if only they had acquired the gift of speech,
and deeper in their thoughts I would have reached:
to dispel the myth that they had no feelings...



After my short poem was completed,
I reached for my harmonica to play my favorite classic tune;
and being surprised by the paleness of the fading moon,
I dedicated that happy melody to her not to let her despair:
by waving my hand to make her farewell less sad, while I whispered,
" Silent moon, eternal companion of every poet,
what's beyond the realm of this universe?...
Tell us more of those invisible suns and planets! "
 


Before spring came to the dormant valley,
the mountains' peaks allowed the sun to melt their snows,
to create gushing torrents to feed its water to the dry and cracked soil,
which needed rain instead of harmful frost;
and I drank the freshest water and washed my sweaty face,
while fighting off the bees' stubborn rivalry!
That spring has come again to dress herself with incredible splendor,
and this discontent and wishful heart desires nothing more than being there!  


My theme is: Happiness In Childhood


Details | Rhyme | |

Went Fishin'


Submitted to the "Gone Fishin" contest
------------------------------------------------

Trollin’ the islands at Texoma,
It was April, 1964.
New rod and reel in hand,
I’d NEVER been fishing before.

A Garcia 2510T casting rod.
The reel, a Mitchell 301,
Plus hand-selected worms and lures…
I was ready to have some fun.

My teacher, a master fisherman,
Had fished all over the earth...
From trout in Austrian mountain streams
To sea bass just west of Perth.

He showed me all the basics,
Including how to tie a lure.
“No snaps. They’re no good.
Tie’em on…just to be sure.”

He made me practice casting.
“Take aim with your rod’s tip 
Take her back - ten, eleven, twelve, one;
Smoothly return to ten… with just a little flip.”

While I practiced the casting motion,
He said, “Large Mouths will be jumpin’ bugs.
Water’s bubblin’ with Sand Bass spawnin’.
You’ll know the difference if one gives you a tug.”

As we drifted around the islands,
He said, “I think you’re ready.”
So, I picked a lure, a pretty Heddon;
And tied her on.  My hands were steady.

Yellow with black dots and a weed guard. 
A streamer tail and double treble hooks.
Who knew if she would do the job,
But I liked the way she looked.

As I tied her on, I looked around
For a likely place for my first cast.
Magazine pictures always showed weeds
In the background of a striking Bass.

So, I picked a reed bed in the shallows;
Threw my first cast, watched her fly.
What happened next was the stuff of dreams.
We couldn’t believe our eyes. 

About eighteen inches before she lit,
A monstrous Large Mouth erupted from the water.
My teacher screamed, “Holy Mary, Mother of God!  
Kiss O’Reilly’s Ugly Daughter!”

When the Bass broke water, it scared me. 
My whole body jerked and shook.
So sudden, so silent, it seemed like slow motion.
Until I heard him screaming, “Set the hook!  Set the hook!”

When the big Bass scared me,
I must have set the hook.
The tussle was on, long and hard.
This fish didn’t want to be cooked.

My lack of skills prevailed, however,
As I finally reeled him in;
I grabbed him by the lower lip,
Like I’d seen Don Wallace do, time and time again.

“Oh, my God”, he murmured as he weighed the Bass;
“Jeez.  Over thirteen pounds....Thirteen pounds, two.”
He took out his Polaroid and laughed, 
“I’ll take a picture of this fish... holdin' you.”

He snapped the picture of me holding the Bass;
On the back wrote the date, the length and weight.
As he turned to put the camera away……
Get ready.  This is the part that’s great.

I’d watched Don Wallace ‘catch and release’.
He always did that on his show.
“This fish put up a good fight.” he’d say;
“Now it’s time to let him go.”

Yes, as my teacher put away the camera,
I held the big Bass by the lower lip and tail
And ‘swished’ him in the water,
Making sure his gills would not fail.

My teacher turned and saw what I was doing
Just as I let the big Bass go.
This, too, was like slow motion
As I heard him screaming, “NOOOOOOO!”

“Why would you do that, Lad?
Do ya know nothin’ at all?
A fish like that... on your very first cast?
Well...Lad, that fish goes on the wall.”

“Well…he’ll be here next year.” I said with a smile,
“And even bigger, I’ll bet.”
He said, ”You’ll make a fisherman, Lad.
It’s not for the fish that we fish…

but for the great stories we get.” 

I still have that lure…and the rod and reel.
Still in their bags and boxes, just like new.
I thought about selling them on eBay,
But 50 years later, they have sentimental value.

You see…I’ve been invited to go fishin’ several times
By golfin’ buddies and other friends;
But for some reason…I really don’t know why…
I’ve never gone fishin’ again.

They say, “Truth is stranger than fiction.”
And I believe that is a fact.
I hope you enjoyed this bit of truth and,
In the meantime…..”Ya’ll come back!”


Details | Rhyme | |

Season's Round

Summer sunshine in her hair
The Autumn moon in her eyes
Winter’s promise buried there
Hints of Spring therein lies

The Autumn moon in her eyes
Winter’s snow upon her skin
The seeds of Spring wait to rise
To field the Summer once again

Winter’s snow upon her skin
Spring flowers to grace her face
Summer’s vow to come again
Until Autumn takes its place

Spring flowers to grace her face
Summer’s sunshine in her hair
Autumn hints leave bare a trace
That Winter’s cold will follow there


Details | Free verse | |

like diamonds


two hits and i’m hanging off cliffs, listening to water

drip.

watching moss fall like snowflakes.

nothing holding my heels down but gravity, irrelevant to me.

the little girl exploring the ocean floor, the caves that once held entrancing treasures.

even tactile pain drives me into a gust of euphoria.

my heart beats (slower than it should), but the trees don’t mind.

the four shades of green blend to create a forest-

with each exhale, branches move in tandem.

and a salty tear falls from my eye,

reminiscent of what once was here.


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 | 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 | |

Cherry Blossoms Jamboree

Cherry blossoms bloom; the townspeople sing, laugh, dance: hope springs eternal.


Details | Quintain (English) | |

Where Spring Winds Had Blown

Romantic symbols of a tender day,
hearts with initials were carved on a tree.
In the spring of my life on this perfect April day,
we lay down to dream of what would be.
Beneath a young oak I sat on his knee.

The aroma of freshly mown grass filled the park.
Bearded irises curtsied as a gentle breeze blew
and I ran my hand over the tree’s bark.
Pete was just enjoying the view
when I suggested we etch our love so true.

With a pocketknife the heart was carved
to bear the initials P.T. and C.S.
Fifteen and love starved,
but what our future held, we could not guess.
Still, the initials an innocent bond did profess.

I returned to the park last year
and found my way to the oak that had grown.
Looking up, I saw the initials were still clear.
Though Pete was married and had children of his own,
resurrected feelings surfaced where spring winds had blown.
  


Written February 6, 2012 for Francine’s “English Quintain a Spring Day” Contest


Details | Quintain (English) | |

Our Song Unsung

"There is something coming over me"
Love in everything_its amazing
Must be spring has pronounced decree
Great romance aflame blazing 
All the birds, crickets in song praising
Memories surfing corners of my mind
The spring of my life when we were young
The young love that we have left behind
Young love amazing, all reason to wind flung
Oh! For that spring again, our song unsung

Contest: English Quintain A Spring Day
Sponsor: Francine Roberts
February 02, 2012


Details | Free verse | |

Now I Am Free from My Step-parent

A life of beauty and happiness denied, of innocence 
smothered like a flame, I have always lived; but when 
I hear your lovely voice, my Lisa--

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 understanding I finally know in the rich 
harmonies of your voice, my Lisa--

which sets me free.

Before I could even hope to bloom like a sensual
flower caught breathless and naked in the first, rainy
sunbeams of spring a great evil--the threatening, 
inner hostility of a dark figure overflowing with 
bigotry--transformed me into a joyless 

waste of ashes.

From that terrible moment on I fought all the ugly
and horrible assaults as his unwilling possession, a
gladiator in the arena of his constant abuse and 
myriad threats, subject to his occasional hostile 
looks from 

across the dinner table.

But when I hear your voice and imagine its tender-
ness and compassion as an unearned gift meant for 
me despite him and my child-like self-loathing: 

I feel the love and self-worth denied me, taken from
me simply because it was too easy to not rape from 
a child whose only fault was that he was born 

defenseless and
white.

O Lisa! Because of the music of your lovely voice--
now I am free! Free from my years as a gladiator in 
the arena of his constant abuse and attacks; 

free to bloom like a sensual flower caught breathless
and naked in the first, rainy sunbeams 

of Spring again!


Details | I do not know? | |

Your Whisper

You whispered in my ear,
a breathy secret, hushed.

“I love you”, you murmured.

I said nothing,
lost, in your arms,
I found a home. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
I said nothing,
lost in my thoughts,
I found peace. At last.

“I love you”, you said,
words failed me then.

They still do.


Details | I do not know? | |

Distant African Nights

Those Distant African Nights...


1.


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,

holding you,

ever so tight.



2.


You whispered that you loved me,

and I kept silent,


the rain fell, 
shadows danced,
thunder rolled,

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,


yet,

a fear gnawed at me,

deep within.



3.


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.



4.


You are long gone,

far away,

happy, I pray,


yet the memories persist,

those precious moments shall never, 
ever,

like the Jo'burg rains,
trickle away,

and I wish you well,
for loving me as you did,

for it was I who was not worthy,


then,


and it is I who is not worthy,


now...



5.


You were always true,


it was I who always,

always,

refused to,


to give myself,


completely to you.






Details | Free verse | |

In The Autumn of My Years

Memories linger melancholy as I approach the bridge to the Gardens de Sol. A picture forms in my weary mind; Just a mere shadowed mirage, like an old faded photograph in a heart shaped locket kept near my soul centre for days, weeks and decades…. while fall winds crooning blue zephyrs frigid, incantations upon the once verdant meadows where the fawns grazed and wild horses pranced so breezy carefree on fine spring days.... I whirled and twirled , a carefree dance on patches of clover and dandelions in the spring of my youth Reveling joie de vivre of sun Sol warming skin and soul pink I remember our long, meandering walks in a picture perfect rose garden scented with redolent pines and aromatic wild flowers we conversed for hours, my hand in yours thrilling at your every word infatuated by a fervent touch You, idly picking petals off a rose; the deep timbre of your delicious laugh resounding joy to my acquiescent ears as I cavorted playfully in the garden’s fountain until lengthening shadows quilted the path with reluctant to leave, sun beams of a late summer afternoon And afterwards, in twilight violet sky; intimate moments by a blazing fire, silent music of our hearts thrumming a lovers sonata while you kissed me; gold specked brown orbs, so pleasurable and beguiling, warming my soul full of tomorrows promise and forgotten yesterdays Now, as I picture this quixotic drama rehearsed again and again one solitary tear slowly trails down and comes to rest on lines that were not there yesterday….. Dead cornflake leaves crunch under my feet as I walk the very same bridged pathway to the garden alone my only audience a solitary prickly cactus in the autumn of my years.......


Details | Free verse | |

Window

In one corner of my room,
That is shaped like a tomb,
There is a window, where I sit
And see my world through it.

I see the rising sun,
I see the melting dew,
I see the blooming flowers,
I see the sky’s changing hues.

Through it
I embrace the fading sun,
I live the joyous rains,
I feel the flowery fragrance,
I walk those lonely ways.

Through it
I float with the summer clouds,
I breathe the winter breeze,
I touch the autumn leaves,
I celebrate the cuckoo’s springtime songs.

Through the window,
I see my world.
Neither the autumn leaves,
Nor the springtime songs;
Neither the winter sunshine,
Nor the summer rains;
Would have been great
Had it not been through my window rails.

Through my window,
I see the world.
In the window, lies the entire bliss;
Beyond the window is only an illusion.

Suyash Saxena


Details | Narrative | |

WHEN SPRING DIDN'T HIDE ITS FLOWERS!

Nothing is more delightful
and simply remembered by a sweet word...
than a walk through a green forest,
to find a remote spot on a low hill
and put those daily worries to rest;
the anxious eyes long for that vision
of a last, unforgotten season: 
the gentlest rain which brings
a familiar fragrance from other lands...
when spring hides its flowers!

Whenever the lonely poet dreams,
his unerring hand is quicker that  the flowing streams:
the distant vison of his flourishing thoughts
is carried to unseen places; 
and all he wishes is to feel  a sublime peace...
when spring hides its flowers!

The wishful child ,led by his mom ,searches 
 the leaf-covered paths with a sorrowful glance,
even the robins and blue-birds can't confort him,
 or give him some kind of hope for his unleashed whim;
and will he relish the joyful promise of each year,
as a gentle hand caresses his blonde hair...
when springs hides its flowers from his zealous eyes,
and one of those adolescent dreams unexpectedly dies?

I, once, was like him:  curious,cheerful and so restless:
seeking surprises in unexpected places...
finding myself in front of simple wonders
that couldn't  be perceived by the adult mind,
as if they were another mystery, not the creation of God...
when spring didn't hide its flowers!


Details | Quatrain | |

Your Gift To Me

Exhaling petals in the time of need 

I keep replaying the blossoming of gardenias 

by pushing buttons on my remote control 

with painful fingers - reminders of lost wings.

 
The mini blinds are broken so I peek 

Over the sterile walls mutilated by wrong turns 

I hear you calling me on a disconnected phone 

I'm fine!...and you? - followed by a timid silence.

 
Accidental spring brought us back together 

In a building where daffodils smell of chloroform 

And angels lie flat on a recently emptied bed 

As I watch windows cry in endless raindrop dances.



It's so much life outside I feel I suffocate. 

I see returning swallows through your candid eyes 

As panicky sirens make your heart pound in my chest... 

This accidental spring we'll finally be... forever.


For Laura's "Recovery From Life" contest


Details | I do not know? | |

The Swaying of the Grass

1.

 

A path leads,

to where wild grass grows,

 

sashaying in the summer breeze.

 

2.

 

Along the path,
lightness settles within,

 

feeling the grass,
swooning,
tickling ankles,

 

swaying to the lilting bird-song,

in a dance of intimate abandon,

 

brushing the remnants of pain away.

 

3.

 

Melodies float across fields of green,

delicately caressing my heart,

 

teasing emptiness to flee,

comforting the mind,

 

to silently be.

 

4.

 

Walking on,
savouring the peace,

 

a momentary respite,
from the burdens of the now,

 

all is quiet,

 

a stillness cradling fractured emotions,

 

the grass in the fields sway,

 

dusk descends,

 

shadows lengthen,

 

nudging dimming light to take leave,

 

of the day


Details | Sonnet | |

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.


Details | I do not know? | |

Spring Fever

I feel it
The tugging in my bones
Like a young child pulling at my shirt to get attention
That gentle urge to look their way
It whispers in my ears
Left shoulder it sits 
Then right
Left right left right
Never quite in view
Tickling like a strand of hair gone awry
It slides across my fingers 
Like an itch I can't scratch
The desire to move 
When I know I should be absolutely still
I hear it 
Like a ringing in my ears
Or a fly buzzing in my ear
The humming of the lights
It calls to me
Mumbling like the dry eyes commercial guy
It longs for me 
Like a drought stricken farmer prays for rain
It commands me to dance 
Flitting like a butterfly sailing in a windstorm
It burns
Like the fever of a sleepless infant
On and on it screams at me
I am coming
Like a wild cat at midnight
It reaches out to embrace me
Like little ones safe in their mothers arms
Restlessly I wait
For spring


Details | Free verse | |

Spring holiday fever

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.


Details | Light Poetry | |

Spring

Well spring has Will come and hearts will feel the passion of love,_O yes young girls thoughts will turn to boys as the worm sun shines from above.__O when the sun worms the ground and new growth comes to life,_Then young men's thoughts turn to a home and a wife.__O another season of the cycle of life when love and laughter fills the air,_When hearts will be won or hearts will be broken but no one seems to care.__O spring the start of new life the chance for love and for some a new beginning,Now we life this life with a gamblers heart and hope it is love we will be winning._O do we trust in fate and hope for a wedding as the spring sun shines from above,_Or do we seek out the passion of a worm heart and hope it is the one we truly love.


Details | Enclosed Rhyme | |

Winter's Departure

Spring came back to town today
In all her glorius style
Winter packed up in a huff
And left us for a while

We all thought Spring was gone for good
For Winter had stayed so long
And though we tried to be Winter's friend
She draped us in her cold sarong

She'd ice the roads over
And even freeze the lake
No one forgot her cold demeanor
Or the warmth she'd always take

But when Spring blew in with her flowery array
And the sun seemed to shine so bright
Winter could not stay around 
So she left in the middle of night

We know that she's not gone for good
For she always rushes back too soon
As Spring always leaves for Summer
Fall also leaves for Winter's melancholy tune


Details | Pantoum | |

Springtime Memories and Wishes

As the sweet scents of spring envelop the cool air
I am taken away to a far off land of memory, of bliss
Childhood days of running, laughing, days of care
It all brings a warm smile to my face, as I reminisce

I am taken away to a far off land of memory, of bliss
A time I thought I once forgot, but now I can relive
It all brings a warm smile to my face, as I reminisce
With people I thought I disliked, but now I forgive

A time I thought I once forgot, but now I can relive
I also see those days when we turned on each other
With people I thought I disliked, but now I forgive
I wish them all happiness, my sisters and brothers

I also see those days when we turned on each other
Childhood days of running, laughing, days of care
I wish them all happiness, my sisters and brothers
As the sweet scents of Spring envelop the cool air