Spring Free Verse Poems | Examples
These Spring Free Verse poems are examples of Free Verse poems about Spring. These are the best examples of Free Verse Spring poems written by international poets.
Dark clouds part
Spring sun warms land
Sleepy tree opens wardrobe
Fresh green cloak covers naked frame
Squirrel gymnastics performed against vibrant backdrop
Ignored by blackbirds busy building
Summer arrives
Leaf’s heyday
Flutters in warm breeze
Veins pump life into dainty form
Nature’s simplistic beauty
Too soon chill spreads across land
Winds gust challenging life
Leaf resists but colour changes
Green tinged with brown
Tree draws inward
Leaf’s lifeblood turned off
Brown vista prevails
Then airborne in autumn sky
Dark clouds draw in
Bleak winter arrives
Grounded, shrivelled, still
Life leaves leaf
As we soak the hues of the chromatic sky,
you become the patina of the dainty dawn.
Even in twilight the golden day doesn’t fade,
for in my horizon you’re the sun that never sets.
While the autumn flowers wither in my garden,
I see in you they blossom in everlasting spring.
My yearning flitters like a beguiled butterfly
around your floral charisma that never wanes.
The emotive designer of my dormant dreams,
suffuses the deep sense of passionate feeling.
Swathed by the aura of your enthralling charm,
my mind perceives the epitome of ecstasy.
I sense the sequins of the silver dust,
sprinkled by the mesmeric moonbeam,
ripple within my marooned mind as it floats
on the amorous rhythm of longing.
In the ether of your fervent firmament
I then soar on the lilted wings of lyrical zephyr.
As the melody of love entrances me,
my heart turns for you into, perhaps, a poem.
Winter
Winter spreads a white cloak upon the ground,
His hands are cold, yet kindness may be found.
Snowflakes are unwritten letters from lovers,
That whisper in the wind, then rest under snowy covers.
In the coldest nights, only love’s warmth will survive,
Keeping the circle of seasons gently alive.
Beloved, when you come, spring of union and summer of passion bloom,
When you leave, autumn of memory and winter of longing loom.
Our love is four seasons that through you find their part,
A cycle eternal, forever turning within the heart.
Autumn
My beloved wears autumn’s golden gown,
Her honeyed hair falls gently down.
In her eyes lies a sorrow tender and sweet,
You are my autumn, O spring I once did meet.
Leaves descend like letters left unread,
One by one to earth they are spread.
The wind of autumn whispers through the trees,
A voice from time’s deep heart, telling memories.
Golden pages drift like a half-forgotten song,
Each line inscribed as the earth moves along.
And soil becomes the gentlest bed,
Where all these tales of love are softly said.
Spring
Beyond the visible spring of nature, a secret season stirs my soul,
My beloved spreads her emerald robe across the waiting whole.
Her breath releases jasmine, wild roses in the air,
Like dawn’s soft breeze, she touches willows with tender care.
Each step she takes breaks the silence of the night,
And flowers awaken, opening petals to the light.
Lovers’ songs, like migrating birds, soar into the sky,
While pearls of dew on her cheeks like morning jewels lie.
When I stand before my tall and graceful beloved, I bow with greeting,
She answers with a smile, like a flower at day’s first meeting.
From the fragrance of her reply, spring drifts through the air,
O newborn season of beauty and grace—arise, all gardens prepare.
With care I seal my love, the rising sun our witness,
Each kiss returned, red as blossoms of morning brightness.
Thus our love dances in the fresh spring air,
And every breath of nature bears witness that we care.
I have walked the hallways
where minutes gnash like teeth,
each second a pebble pressed
into the jaw of memory.
The air tastes of iron--
memory’s rust,
old prayers swallowed
before they ever touched the light
Yet still - I carry my candle
into the jaw’s dark cavern,
its flame a soft rebellion
against the grindstone silence.
Soft laughter rests in the cracks,
like seeds grabbed
into the frozen earth,
waiting for the frost to release them,
for spring to rise
from winter’s quiet.
I move onward,
not a hostage,
but marrow unbroken,
a hymn rising
through bone and enamel,
singing until the jaw
yields to the light.
All my life, I witnessed many times,
People walked into my life,
Quickly we shared our soul and mind,
Then, for one reason or another
They eventually disappeared.
Some abruptly and left me with wonder,
Some with excuses and left without a trace.
Others just not interested and gone for ever.
It took me almost one year,
To let BB goes without a closure.
The way JC come and leave,
Triggered me emotionally upset.
JN on the other hand,
This was the second time,
She repeatedly made false promises,
Despite I asked her to focus.
Make no mistakes nor errors.
She just did not listen,
Bad things kept on happened,
Led me to make decision,
Our friendship must end.
It was quite ashamed,
The way the relationships came and went.
springtide …
blows a tender kiss
tickling blossoms on a plum branch
to loose their grasp, giggling
whirling and winding in
the sun like drunken, gilded pixies
capricious in their flight
a whimsical drift -
aromatic and elegant …
flawless, like the wishes of a child
floating to purpose, afar -
to alight on a dream
enigmatic, joyous, true …
as blessed in their journey as they
are in the order of their
exquisite design -
as charmed in their prospect
as they are in their
perfect, resplendent sacrifice …
sacred essence of being
lifeblood of existence -
the bright, brisk
glorious morning breath of
nature …
itself.
Copyright © 2022 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
in a dream -
Mississippi, the 50's
lone hike on a sweltry spring-tide day
rolling fields of cotton and wheat
cauliflower clouds like lazy old men
creeping across a buttery haze …
as I walk, I tickle the tops of the grasses
hands open, palms down
blessing them
like mischievous children …
strolling a rise
in no hurry but oddly compelled
ball cap and short sleeves
skin rosy from the midday shine -
naked, dazzling sun, yet …
an odd trepidation as I round the hilltop -
below is a peach grove
in glorious, pregnant bloom
such strange fruit, these southern trees bear
burnished, dark, twisted
slowly spinning in the cruel heat -
and flies … darting
then …
realization
hits me like a doubled fist
and I retch into the beautiful snowy
blossoms at my knees
turning away from the bloat in
abject horror and shame …
for my skin is white -
the fetor, overwhelming
and he ...
was but a boy.
~ For Billie Holiday and Abel Meeropol ~
Copyright © 2019 Gregory Richard Barden
( photographic art created copyright-free by the poet with GALA AI software )
Who's that goo
He knows these rules
Been part timed
An hesitant he won't forget
She's his worries
And hurt wisdom
Join with me
His excellence sees
Bring me frees
Poet trees
Some words spring
La la la
In his stead she wakes i bring
Cause everything
Cause winter won't rent for me
Climbing back words maths
Fast friends still say bye bye
Augustus
Pardon, Tia Jenna
Superior Novella pairing at the store lunch bench?
Bambi G rating Kev
Que Mas gratis audience of two
Mira's condolences on the loss of the new balcony
October, bring me home to all the scents I so adore
clothe me in cinnamon dreams and help me collect
all the colors that I so lovingly wrapped
with burlap's gentle touch !
October, blush me with orange and tangerines
tint my lips with red and crimson sheen
and as the fall foliage falls away from me,
bring me a mug of pumpkin spice, Oh please
October, while your busy bagging gold
I am gathering dry leaves at my feet
Raking in hopes for a mild mild winter,
and marshmallows roasting by a lovely fireside.
After the first hard frost comes the gentle snow,
then later on if we are lucky, a beautiful warm spring in toe...
In the measure of the heavens, my heart turns to you.
Like the barley rising, you are my joy.
Your name is sweetness poured into the reed flute.
I, James McLain, know the fire of devotion—
Yet yours is greater,
A river that does not cease.
James, beloved, your breath is the wind of spring.
Your hands are vessels filled with light.
You walk, and the earth bends in gladness.
The moon hangs jeweled upon your brow.
The stars are your companions,
But none shine with the brightness of your soul.
Love such as yours endures beyond kings and kingdoms.
It binds what was scattered,
It heals what was broken.
Yours is the greatest love of all:
That your heart holds all the world within it.
Your name is Karen Jolene Cook
Springing here,
Blooms dance, sunshine wafts,
Feel our smiles.
You wore truth like a tailored suit,
Smiling sharp in the evening light—
But lies stitched seams I couldn’t see,
Till silence screamed through every night.
Your eyes, twin lanterns in the dark,
Once held the stars I swore were real.
But stars, it seems, can flicker cold,
And hearts can kiss, yet never feel.
You spoke of “forever” in soft-spun lace,
While weaving webs behind my back—
Each word a thread of false embrace,
Each step a crack along the track.
You touched another, lips untrue,
With hands that once held all of me.
Did guilt not whisper in your spine,
Or did betrayal set you free?
I drowned in questions, bitter rain,
Searching for reasons in your flame.
But fire only knows to burn—
It doesn’t care who speaks its name.
Now silence sits where love once lay,
A ghost beside my coffee cup.
And all your truths, once sweet as spring,
Taste bitter in this shattered cup.
So take your vows and glass-made dreams—
They break so easy, don’t they, dear?
But know the cost of what you’ve lost:
A love that held you—without fear.
THIS IS ENOUGH
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Me and the dawn,
the waking sun,
the earth and all its glory,
the sun shining down on me.
Me and the twilight,
the rising moon,
the sky and all its glory,
the moon shining down on me.
Me and the autumn,
the falling leaves,
the field and all its glory,
the pumpkin and cranberry leaves dancing all around me.
Me and the winter,
an icy serenade,
the frozen earth in all its glory,
the purity of the heaven-given snow enveloping me.
Me and the spring,
a chatterbox of colors and green,
the thawing earth in all its glory,
the sweet promise the raindrops bring falling all around me.
Me and the summer,
a newly radiant sun so free and bright,
the blazing blue sky in all its glory,
the endless, languid days mesmerizing me.
Me and you,
a slow, persistent warmth illuminating hidden fields
our love, this flawed, bruised, and fragile thing
We are enough. Here. Now. Always.