One nail goes in my barren wall, to bring the spring alive
I can almost hear the birds that greet, in morning's gold sunrise
There is a garden, now, within my palm, and dew within my eyes
The fog lifts high, and drifts away, and clouds within the sky
While butterflies, and bumble bees, bring color, oh, so grand
Addressing spring, caressing things, a rainbow in my hands.
A glimpse, as if through windowpanes, I'll fall in love anew
Enchanting me with roses, red, in bloom around my head
They welcome me to a cottage old, to cheer me from my blues
The world is painted softly, gold, in shades of pastel hues
From nature is a vast array, of color, painted, thus
I wish to hold the magic long, to frame, to keep, ... to last
Inspired by "Springtime By Monet" For Ekphrasis Contest Sponsored By Rick Parise
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2015
Wind howling at my window.
I shiver and pull on my duvet slack.
Night greets me as I go to work and back.
Then proceed to light all sources of heat.
Engage in knitting in my fireside seat.
Retreated to warmth of cosy cottage.
Surprise at tender buds in garden.
Peel off all those extra layers.
Return of sunshine thanks to prayers.
Invigorating walks on country lanes.
Noting daffodils and crocus again.
Grateful that Spring is in the air.
Copyright © JEAN MURRAY | Year Posted 2016
I do not know?
Well, finally one lucky man may realize
That nothing in the world could equalize
Thy poetry, except the magic season
Which for the poet, has other reason.
I have a date with adorable Mrs Spring.
So excited, I think I tell her everything:
How much I love her splendid eyes
Of magic green, that all verdure cries
Every morning, to borrow from hers.
In dream, I kiss the naked shoulders,
I stroke that incredible hair green,
And so I know this beauty's queen:
All her body is a charming thrill
Of larks as singing on the silky hill.
Then, the horizon as her sweet round hip
In playful wish to have a happy good trip,
It is the time when sun is ready to wake up.
A toi ! Like Joe Dassin I take the noble cup.
Copyright © Ovidiu Bocsa | Year Posted 2016
There is an orgy of fruit above our heads
Delectable sweetness falls unto our beds
We shall devour the sweetness so ripe and pure
Angels so bright with amorous decor
Intercourse woven upon the forest floors,
Lustfully we be bedridden
Satisfying our wanton souls in the village of Sidon
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2015
As spring departs
In the wind and rain
Copyright © Uwe Stroh | Year Posted 2014
Play The Radio
Get Up And Dance All Night Long
Music Heals The Soul
Copyright © humble b | Year Posted 2012
A walk in the park
Lovers hand in hand
Strolling along the promenade
Smelling the sweet scent of red roses all around
As I sit here all alone
On a park bench
Beside the most beautiful woman I ever laid eyes on
If only I was not so shy
I would have told her so
Copyright © arthur vaso | Year Posted 2014
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
The morning greets me with birds at my window
They peck at the glass,
they chirp and harass,
"The sun is up, the grass smells clean!
The flowers so pretty they must be seen!"
I pull the covers back up to my chin,
the cold cotton pillow feels good on my skin.
But the longer I lie here the more I realize,
the coffee is calling; I really must rise.
With eyes barely open, I saunter about.
The kitty is purring and happy as trout.
My shepherds come running, their tails wagging fast.
They want to go outside, and go running past.
I open the door and nearly knocked over,
They run off the deck and into the clover.
I walk to the table,
all dressed with pink roses,
waiting for barking, and kissed by wet noses.
I smell the aroma of Colombian beans,
my percolator singing, while I get on my jeans.
I'm feeling quite artful,
the day has begun.
The birds are still chirping,
the yard in full sun.
The coffee tastes great, and as I sit here,
the birds at my window, the cat in the chair,
there's one place that's calling, with north light galore,
just past the den, where Big Bear will snore.
My studio corner, my wonderful place,
where dreams are realized, and canvas to face.
The day has begun
It's a spring morning
-Mary Susan Vaughn
Copyright © Mary Susan Vaughn | Year Posted 2016
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
Copyright © Jay Loveless | Year Posted 2013
The butterfly went to a party last night all through the evening. It was the drunken butterfly and he saw all different butterflies through the night at the party. Both of them were drunk in front of the butterfly that evening. He woke up the next morning and he didn't remember who gave him drinks. It was different butterflies passing for everyone at the party. His friend found out that there was another butterfly drunk that evening. After that night, one was over and he began to face it with. One of the drunk butterfly at that evening. When he went up to all the butterfly were drunk at the party. Then that night, he went home to get straight from that night all day. Then he looked back to the party to find out who gave him drinks that evening.
Copyright © Frances Roberts | Year Posted 2013
Forever young, poised on the leaping edge of time,
the child essence that lives within,
age-creased the outer casing
where, paper thin, the skin grows old
and withers like spent leaves before the wind;
constantly renewed the inner stream of lightning grace,
fresh flowing from the all wise Father's life granting hand,
an exuberant miracle captured
in so small a vessel as the timorously beating human heart.
Thus inspiration comes, lightning quick, alive, forever new,
to prick imagination's wine skin, releasing a spring of creativity,
a birth, a miracle itself, a joint act with God,
the great giver of all gifts.
© September 17, 2015
Faye Lanham Gibson
Copyright © Faye Gibson | Year Posted 2015
Rivers joyfully flow
Roses again bloom
Spring visits again!
Copyright © Teddy Kimathi | Year Posted 2013
A shade of yellow, paint with blue
Blemishes the canvass, all in crude
Creativity in the lazy sky
Dulled in myriad etches drawn
Fields of hope now ascending
God given blessings bestowed
Heaven's a bliss to behold
In the artist's loving hand
Jaded with clues after clues
Keen on its every detail
Life time's own redemption
Memoirs upon the final touch
Nature's guise to reach heights
Oils and pastels combined
Portrait hung with grace
Quite breezing one's mind
Racing deep to the bosom
Sunflowers waving its mother sun
Thistles whispering sweet goodbyes
Utopia on the majestic moon
Wonders of an impressive grade, like
Xylophones synced in harmony
Yesterday's today an understatement
Zephyr stirred within every stroke.
Copyright © Jeffrey dela Cruz | Year Posted 2015
He was born under a dreamy dancing star
On a beautiful spring night
And he left his heart's door ajar
For he never forgot that sight
He saw hatred, pain and scorn
And wished he wasn't born
He saw anger,sorrow,greed
And wanted another planet indeed
But then he smiled and said YES
To the spring sky,love and tenderness
Then he thought:I want to live
I want to forget and forgive
He said:Good night angels of death, good bye
You'll always be in my mind's eye,
Parting is such a sweet sorrow
But poetry, sun and rainbow are my tomorrow
Copyright © Vesna Kovrlija | Year Posted 2012
pink spiral stitches
macramed umbrella gilds
shrine to fertile spring
Copyright © Stephen Parker | Year Posted 2013
This poem is dry/
Free from liquid tongues/
It cries out loud as the misty words blown reflects winter/
Hearts cold /
This poem is mine/
Re-read it after a while/
The message turns warmer in time/
You are told/
It carries old expressive survivors who died in the future/
Marry words that lose leaves but surviving the bitter cold season/
Words that bought blankets for them lyrical branches/
This poem is sweet/
Dry poems have rights to be pleased/
This poem is sweet/
Rhymes shelter on the sentence's rooftop before engagement parties/
Cut and paste scissors blur the vision/
Not true expression/
Bees group hug in mud of resurrected angels to echo this poem/
Echo this poem/
Spread the word in this cold world/
We will all get warm/
Copyright © Raymond Ngomane | Year Posted 2013
This passion inflames two hearts that interweave,
they give off the strong perfume
of entwined roses clinging to strawberry shrubs;
distant is the memory of snows!
No other sky above this meadow glitters more,
how clear is the way to enthralling Paradise!
And if we bind together, this vernal promise
must endure as the earth itself, evermore!
Tales of Kings and Queens in love were lost to time and spoil;
enduring is this new tale in which caresses and kisses burn;
this place in time is as eternal as gray ashes in a small urn,
never scattered to wind or sea, buried in soil deeper than coil.
The Passiflora flower bears a resemblance to the pink daisy,
its aura of solar beads is the crown given for the rarest beauty;
and such are the glowing glances of woman filled with worth,
a last surrender to my fervent kisses that induce blissful death!
Entered in Broken Wings contest,
" Entwined "
Written on 2/11/2016
Copyright © Andrew Crisci | Year Posted 2016
Suns ember through the tree.
Chakras blooming for spring.
Copyright © Dayneissa Byrd | Year Posted 2013
With colors of the rainbow
Nature's choir sings
By Robb A. Kopp
All Rights Reserved © MMX
Copyright © Robb A. Kopp | Year Posted 2010
Flower opens in the sun
A world is reborn
Copyright © Fred Cleaveland | Year Posted 2010
everything is new
hope springs forth anew
joy for all abound
Copyright © Malcolm Dyer | Year Posted 2009
time in time on time
second by second over high noon
our spring to spring of moon
Copyright © Milan Georges Burovac | Year Posted 2014
I spy, a feather beauty bright
With speckled blush on breast
Basking within the thicket light
Dancing round about her tiny branch
Your fluttering sight beholding
Within the snowy briar
Bathing among the warmth
Of the morning's golden glory
Its brilliance your own crown of halo
Like a sunburst that swallows
Up the end of February's sigh
As other feathers flusters zoom right by
The ginger little fellows all dappled, scramble
A merry-go-round within a flight
Threading joyous song throughout your bramble
As further flocks of scurry, hurry fly
On parade teasing wings of faerie sprites
A musical path of crisscross kites
But, you little one are the daring, bursting forth
With higher operatic songs, to startle and scold those spry
Feather beauty bravely
Upon your perch chest thrust out boldly
Nonsense rhymes and a new found might
Chase away the imps of finch and thrush
And keep yourself the sunbeams for its light
And bask yourself once more this time
Among the drops of melting dripping snow
And gather up all tis full
Feasting here, where the wild wild berries grow
But, in the end you are their kin
And soon, my fairy feathered friend you too must go
Out, onto twittering leafy stemmy stem and off...
Into the yonder of the coming spring to rove
Copyright © Michael Smith | Year Posted 2013
A flower...it grew.
A seed embedded beneath the soil.
Daisy,roses,violets are blue,
Lily of the valley, spring has renewed.
Faintly birds chirp before my eyes have awaken,
roosters crow, while grandsons are raking,
Cows are milked, playgrounds are built,
Swing into spring, flowers are racing.
Who will be the first to announce it's presence
Pollen drops from above seasonal changes progressing.
Lust is everywhere,
while love is in the air.
dress basically bare,
floor covered underwear.
One night stands
True love romance
kiss between lips
loves tangled dance
Copyright © Gerald Moise | Year Posted 2016
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
Bright blue skies on a spring day
Fulfills my horizon
Blue birds and robins pass me by
Mountain, trees, and animals
Priase God Abroad
The frsh air bring forth calmness
A quiet serene a waits my soul
Red orange and violets
Represents God's glory
Flowers slowly rise with the sun
And water crickets sings songs of glory
Fresh water arises with the scent
Of of sweet savory of God's spices
Beach rolls in the lazy tide
I sit back and enjoy it all
The art of spring is glorification
Of all tings God created
He's the world famous artist
Copyright © Angela Wilson | Year Posted 2012
First Blossoms of Spring
Displaying a pink cloud
of fragile flowers,
like a hopeful debutante,
an old tree put on a new dress.
Between fresh green leaves,
delicate flowers look
like colorful buttons
fastened to the tree branches by
The warm hands
Around, warm wind dances,
embracing joyful tree branches.
Kissed by passionate sunrays,
they dance waltz with the wind.
Busy bees arrived to kiss flowers.
And birds sing thankful
hymn to spring’s glory,
celebrating moments of the beauty,
which too soon
will have to fade away…
Copyright © Donna Ryduchowski | Year Posted 2012
Jumped into a hot spring,
Salvador Dali, bent time-
And the clock struck one
Copyright © Denise Morgan | Year Posted 2015
Can't wait for spring
to see the flowers bloom,
look at the stars
and gaze up at the moon.
Copyright Cynthia Jones
Copyright © Cynthia Jones | Year Posted 2015