Spring Rhyme Poems

If eighty-five is old, for sure, I am.
Although my soulmate is still here with me,
gone is our Spring and Summer- Autumn's spree-
as Wintertime completes life's...

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Little Flower, scent of spring 
For me have you a song to sing?
I love you Lilac do you know?
There's room still for my heart to...

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Well-favored Winter Jasmine,
how have you managed to survive?
It's long past the briskness of Autumn days.
Yet, your exquisite beauty lingers, and you thrive,
lovely petals still intact...

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Springtime, it's springtime 
Winter has taken a leave of absence 
Now it's time for flower to make their grand entrance
Leaving us awestruck and inspired

The mild...

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It's true things are hard to unfix
Nature's playing games and dirty tricks
Instead of games
Gonna fan the flames
Until winter and spring intermix

...

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I hope the world continues to be kind to you
And give you brighter days
I hope the world gives you hope
And your clouds aren't grey

I hope...

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Spring semester has started.
We’re all immersed in the ritual of change
and totally committed to that descent into madness
to the relentless drabness, the flatness, the blandness
for...

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Throughout the coldest days of the mighty winter
Think of a sweet spring and dream of a mild summer
During the harshest hours of the wintry night
Think...

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In the valley where shadows cling,
There flows a river without a spring.
Its waters pale, its whispers low,
A winding path where none dare go.

The reeds are...

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Tell me winter jasmine dear,
why did the sun disappear,
and leave me all alone, here?

I am heartbroken and cold,
as I grow sad, feeble and old,
with no...

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Samuel Woodruff was a very old man, who once drummed for the army;
That marched to his rhythmic music, along with all fifers, playing hearty.

That was...

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A young man, barely twenty-one,
On the town in search of fun.
The wrong side of the railroad track
And somehow never made it back.

A pickup truck, a...

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Sparkles of faerie wings flit past the pink tulips
Sweeping and swerving, frisky faerie flips
Daffodil is jealous of this marvelous mythical attention
Pokes fun at floral’s spring...

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Greet me
Spring sprite,
fresh docile smile;
Whose whispers woo
with hymns of lover's tune.

Enamor me
with fizzy phrases;
As doting night
enthralls, with stars,
the bashful moon.

Cove me
within bossom's veil 
of plusing...

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Shakespeare said a rose is still a rose by any other name.
I think what he was saying was, it's pretty much the same;
but wouldn't it...

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