Scarcely had the snow melted
when the violet crocuses bloomed.
I gaze at your crimson scarf—
the one you left behind a year ago
as you vanished into the amethyst dusk.
Once again, I have watched through a hematite night;
a burgundy dawn slowly fades away,
and still, I wait for your iridescent return.
In celebration of Spring... May the sunshine melt hardened hearts and bring peace and love and joy to humanhood. Blessings.
In the freedom of springtime
By Michelle Morris
07/03/2026
Spring came quietly this year
It came through rain soaked fields
It came through hope and tears
It shone light through minds to yield
To focus on the positive
To focus on the good
No war or darkness could resist
God's plan for humanhood
Spring crocuses and daffodils
Bloomed and brought us joyful bliss
They showed us nature's brightness
They brought us happiness
No ice left in roads or hearts
The way made soft and warm
Delightful moments of serendipity
Spreading hope for a new dawn
Where people are all equal
No one is above or below or displaced
No religion or politics or evil
Only goodness and mercy and grace
Where we are one nation under God
One human collective movement
Our souls connected in love and light
Our beautiful hearts in tune
Forgiveness and kindness strong
Courage to do the right thing (every time)
To stand in our souls' love and light
In the freedom of springtime
© Michelle Morris, 2026
The season’s subtle winds bring change, from the skies
to the mountains, bearing an autumnal overcoat
boasting gold, orange, and scarlet, gradually
hushing to a dying chestnut brown.
Soon, the warming of spring will throw back its head,
laughing at crocuses and daffodils daring to
bloom above winter’s malingering snow.
The pulse of dawn captures me in its taciturn wake.
Above, the trees shed the last of their death and
blend in with the persistence of the evergreen.
I slowly bend and bleed with the horizon’s edge and
hold summer by the hand, laughing and
giving autumn a nod, knowing he’d be back
one day.
Spring blossoms and crocuses
live briefly and pass quickly...
teaching us life lessons in
mute exhortation
March is the month
of the spring equinox.
The third month of the year.
Winter or spring?
A bit of both.
The snow is slowly melting.
Crocuses and
snowdrops are sprouting,
after harsh winter days.
A lovely sign of spring.
Then come the daffodils and tulips.
Praises of the humming bee.
Every plant, every flower
comes in the same order
year after year.
Spring is almost here.
The Autumn crocuses sway
Amongst the shadows of the pine trees
The air is resonant with smoke
As the buddleia dies down
August as thick as musk
Blackbird came a calling
about Autumns ephemerality
Somber yet always lonely
The impending storms
ignite the skies
We strife to Find a talisman
To acknowledge the epiphany
August you are a gust of leafs
floating downstream
you are about heartfelt loss
Tameness is not spoke
callousness is her hallmark…
I’m thankful for the whispering winds and the gentle rain
And the absent sun on dark days, knowing it will be out again
The moonlit skies at night with twinkling stars shining bright
The change of the seasons and all its festive and seasonal sights
The birds who visit and sing their sweet morning melodies
Goldfinches, blue-jays, cardinals and feisty chickadees
Their daily return to feed and build nests nearby in the trees
And watching their entertaining antics as they frolic and tease
Spring blooms that I anticipate and wait for to reappear
In bright colors and scents that bring delight and cheer
The chipmunks and squirrels in my yard scurrying about
with their sputtering, chirping, and barking spouts
The fresh winter snow that cleanses and brightens the ground
and the magical moments of watching the snowflakes come down
When the air warms and crocuses and daffodils emerge through the snow
And the return of Spring when nature rejoices and puts on a beautiful show
The Autumn crocuses sway
amongst the shadows of the pine trees
The air is resonant with smoke
As the buddleia dies down
August as thick as musk
Blackbird came a calling
about Autumns ephemerality
Somber yet always lonely
The impending storms
ignite the skies
Finding a talisman
To acknowledge the epiphany
August you are a gust of leafs
floating downstream
you are about heartfelt loss
Tameness is not spoke
Some letters seem superfluous, you’ll cede:
but with no tulips, spring would not be spring.
We’re used to think in terms of things we need.
Desiring counts for more; it bids us sing.
I find my mind more keenly focuses
on simple schemes: the white-on-green of flocks,
or under trees, those shy, but lovely, crocuses
whose joy it is to greet the equinox.
Who’d miss a ‘b’? But bees provide our fruit.
They fertilise our shrubs, to help us thrive.
‘C’ is not useful. Yet no surly brute
would brook the brine. We need both tide and hive.
Some things, we find, we smoothly do without,
but spring’s the thing we’d never wish to flout.
MEMORIES OF SPRING
Spring is the time for hope, the poets write.
Now winter’s loosed its icy grip one more,
The crocuses creep boldly into sight,
With pretty tulips knocking on the door.
Those trees, denuded in October’s chill,
Soon will turn resolutely into green.
Fresh odes will flow from every poet’s quill,
Determined to do justice to the scene.
But I regret I hold the cynic’s view.
The period just fill me full of gloom.
Those tulips bring me only thoughts of you,
For I remember they were in full bloom
Just when you left the letter by the phone
Condemning me to springtime on my own.
Sweet songbirds chirp, greeting the rising sun
below my bedroom window every Spring.
While their cheery tunes confirm Spring's begun;
green begins coloring in everything.
Crocuses silently push through the ground;
while frozen icicles melt, drip by drip.
The honking of geese fills the sky with sounds
signifying they're on their return trip.
Wildflowers suddenly begin to sprout;
popping from the ground, summoned by sunlight.
Spring seems so splendid; there is little doubt
when Spring colors supersede Winter's white.
I love the scent of Spring's perfumed breezes,
Winter smells sterile once the ground freezes.
Take time to linger,
at the sweet cherry blossom,
at the fresh rosebuds,
green leaves sprouting,
daffodils in full bloom.
Crocuses opening their mouths wide,
just like the frogs on the lily pads.
Purples, yellows spring forth amongst the -
withering white of snowdrops.
And simply just breathe,
just breathe.
Minding as we step,
counting crocuses we walk,
taking snowdrop stops,
sharing with the afternoon,
joys of two boys now it's spring.
This morning I saw daffodils
Unfurl their yellow heads,
Awakening from sleeping
In their cozy winter beds.
The weather isn’t very warm
But there’s sufficient sun
To send the message that it won’t
Be long ‘til spring’s begun.
The crocuses, already out,
Must now agree to share
Their soil with these emerging bulbs;
Of course, it’s only fair.
The landscape, dressed for winter,
Looking bare and brown and bleak
Will be bursting forth with color
Hopefully, within the week.
Barbara Valentine Sublime!
May I be your Valet?
Drive your Horse & Buggie?
Spark your Wish Come True!
Blooma “Bootiful” as a Lily of the Valley,
Here are 3 kisses & a “huggie”,
May Shalom Beis thus accrue!
Warm envelope addressed to our foray,
To Brookside where Crocuses Tug Ye,
Roses are Red & so my bowing knee,
My ears are yours to listen to your dream anthology!
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