Love Spring Poems | Examples
These Love Spring poems are examples of Spring poems about Love. These are the best examples of Spring Love poems written by international poets.
This existence, a marvel of the creative mind, is to find ourselves living in a world of possibilities. The dualism of yin and yang creates a vast arena for personal growth. The viable stage of real-life experiences colors our time here and in the depths of Shakespearean melodrama that make up the days of our lives, dictating the value of a life that ends in death. Other entities that we share the details of this existence with, the life, love, and the path best taken to reach that perfect place, not an easy affair to work through the trials that make it all worthwhile. To break on through to the other side, where the finish line and loved ones patiently await our triumphant return!
Sweet-scented breeze when wafts around,
A thrilled Koyal breaks into song,
On tree branches fresh sprouts abound,
On her face, love-making gone long,
Pearly sweat beads do when alight,
To whom would a scene not delight?
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Translation (sestet*) | 33.08.2025 | spring, night, delight, nightingale, nostalgia
*Wonder, if it can be called a Sestetto Rima-- iambic meter with a rhyme scheme of ABABCC.
Note: Here is a verse (in Harini meter) from Bhartrihari’s Shringaara Shatakam (hundred verses on love and romance). The poet paints here a picture of a spring season in full spell: when fragrance wafts around, tender sprouts surround, a Koyal sings, sweat beads alight from her face from prolonged coitus, who’d not get delighted? Here is the transliteration of the Sanskrit verse:
Parimala amrtah vatah shakha nava-ankura-kotayo,
Madhura-viruta-utkantha vachah priyah pika pakshinam |
Virala surata sveda-udgara vadhu-vadana-indavah,
Prasarati madhau ratryam jatah na kasya guna-udayah || 37 ||
The misty mask of winter ambience melts away,
turning the sky into a cobalt cauldron,
from where the ambrosia of spring descends
with sequined aura through the diaphanous air.
Gossamer clouds gorgeously embroidered
with the wispy ribbons of regal robe appear.
The sunburst sky sprays surreal spectrum
on the dew-crowned emerald meadow.
On the cadenced flow of joyous zephyr
floral fragrance finds the aromatic course,
trails the beguiled butterflies flittering
in the rhythmic waves of spring symphony.
The serenading wind entices me with blissful tune,
argentine moonbeam suffuses me with gracious gleam.
The cascading cadence of the concerto of zephyr,
drifting from the harmonic plateau of exultation,
makes ripples of melody in the lilac lake of my heart,
pulsating with the eclectic pace of endless ecstasy.
I then feel the wondrous southern wind wafts
with your scintillating scent to allure me
to the amorous ambience of your grace.
Its silver sequins swing with the refrain
of the mesmeric moonbeam melody,
resonating with the echo of rapture
of your spring’s timeless sonata, I love
when I listen to the wind.
The crescent settled
behind you, wrapped in silk night,
wearing jasmin orange behind her ears.
I wondered: if she overheard
our brewing midnight; could she tell?
From the gleaming stars in my eyes
that I’m nothing if not a sailor
lost in azure, in awe
of treasures shimmering silver.
In the heat of silence, could she hear?
The pounding, quickened steps of
spring, sprinting across time—
Frogs break free from their winter hide,
I hear blushed wings hum
impromptu tunes of perfection, and kisses
that felt like summer grass’s touch.
Sealed, in the envelope
addressed to spring when she catches up.
Tonight Chumki drifts to a gentle sleep,
And with her the poems their silence keep.
No murmur of verses, no whisper of rhyme,
The hours move slowly, unmeasured by time.
The stars look down with a softened gaze,
Darkness enfolds in its velvet haze.
No chatter of stanzas, no lyrical sound,
Only the hush of the night all around.
Dreams weave quietly in silver streams,
Guarding the doorway to tender dreams.
The restless lines lie still and deep,
For even the muses have gone to sleep.
Yet in the silence, a promise lies near,
That dawn will awaken the songs we revere.
When Chumki wakes, her smile will rise,
And poems will flutter once more to the skies.
They see the storm, the pouring rain,
And whisper low, "Destruction again."
Yet who has thought when thunder cries,
It's nature's voice that fills the skies?
A desperate scream, a broken plea,
Begging for help, for harmony.
It never chose this fate of fear,
It's path was carved, it's end made clear.
The storm was never born to scare,
It only carried what it must bear.
For wouldn't it wish, if it had the say,
To bloom like spring, to shine like day?
To dress the earth in glitter and gold,
Make roses blossom, skies unfold
Not tear the petals, not dim the light,
Not turn the heavens to endless night.
It can't choose the wars it fights,
Not what it shatters in sleepless nights.
And that is why I love the rain,
The thunder's song, the storm's refrain.
I'd stand for hours beneath it's tears,
And listen close it calms my fears.
For as the earth must weep to mend,
So too must humans... to let go, to transcend.
autumn tints garden
flushed flowers wither and fall
they return in spring
to sapling of yearning heart
life blooms with luster of love
petals of roses
waft patina in spring air
like hue of your luscious lips
quiver with my longing lilt
unsaid words float in fragrance
mist melts from blue sky
buds burst colors in garden
air wafts floral scent
enthralled by surreal scene
beauty of spring beguiles me
The magnolia almost whispers to me.
Let the stream pass by me, nourishing
Food that comes from the sweet current.
That flows from hills down to my cottage.
There are many quant cottages around,
All decorated with climbing green plants,
I love them all, ivies, clematis, vines, and more.
But I am in love with the magnolia tree.
She blooms in late Spring, silently full of fragrance
Night or day it is a splendour of pure delight.
Alas the bloom will fade, as all things must,
But beauty is not eradicated easily.
Its petals remind me of days long gone,
Of laughter echoing through the garden air.
Now I sit beneath its shade alone,
Yet feel embraced by fragrance that once spread.
I wanna feel that blinding love, The one you'd live for
The one which feels like sunshine and rain on your face.
The one that feels like the first leaves of the fall.
I wanna witness the summer of love with, sweet voice notes, long hugs and late night shenanigans.
Ballroom dancing in the middle of a crowded street
Moments of laughing but most importantly, just loving.
A Love, that is straight out of a Cartland novel,
where the hero has it all
And then there's a picky princess who goes down for her only strength.
You know the kind of love poets write about, artists paint, musicians compose and singers sing
The one you see in the eyes and smiles,
in rainbows and the midnight skies
In a theatre or in an instagram reel
I wanna feel it all.
The epic, passionate love that lovers die for.
~ Shreshtha Mishra
Spring Gleaning
. for public domain
Our love can offer lifetimes
with what little time is left,
heal wounds, bring welcome comfort,
to the lonely and bereft.
In the midst of dark distress
Hope and Faith can flourish.
Settings at Heaven's banquet table
spark famished souls to nourish.
Embrace a worn and weary heart,
take in our lost and broken,
be Godlike with a loving hand,
show Heaven's door is open.
she breezes in with the April winds
a lovely lass pure and romantically inclined
baby animals frolic with her in the meadow
the tulips struggle toward the sun to whisper hello
she is Ostira, Goddess of Spring
Refreshing grasses wave in wonderment at the princess
Iris stand proudly, hoping to be noticed by their monarch.
zinnias sit back and relax, confident in their beauty without praise.
in their oranges, pinks, and yellows what can be prettier?
Every plant feels newly-done, rejuvenated, refurbished
spring is leaping in the air with joy for she is here!
Ostira, Goddess of Spring
many think they know her; the lilacs do.
The daffodils created her for they are the cheerleaders
Arriving first, like conductors, guiding the flower brigade
Bleeding hearts, daisies and dandelions love her also
She is Ostira, Goddess of Spring
Yesterday was your birthday
Unfortunately, that was a busy day
However, I went to the garden
Of my heart this beautiful morning
Where I picked an invisible rose that could bring:
Happiness, joy, good humor and an early spring.
I shaved my beard and mustache to make your day
With all my heart, I wish you a happy birthday
Oh! I would like to charm you until nightfall
When the rainbow is no more in the fall
Toward another horizon, for another season
Please accept this rose, this poem, this song.
P.S. This poem is dedicated to my good friend.
Copyright © August 2025 Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poetry.
Ich liebe den frischen Duft der Frühlingsluft;
Solange die Luft pollenfrei ist, ist alles in Ordnung.
Translation:
I love the fresh scent of spring air;
As long as the air is pollen-free, everything is fine.
Burning like fever in the spring
our love affair was on the wing
then drifted away on the summer wind
now I'm thinking of you
how good it used to be
holding on to precious memories
and every teardrop has a tale to tell
every teardrop fills a wishing well
changing like autumn leaves that fall
your love it comes and goes
then melts away with the winter snows
and I'm dreaming of you
things we used to do
holding out for those eyes of blue
and every teardrop it blinds reminds
every little teardrop brings me back to you
would that I could
say the words to mend
the heartache heartbreak
of this summer's end
She moved away
From advances
Rolled her eyes
When I took
My chance
Made it
Odivous that she
Didn't want me to
The night lingered on
I'll saw some chances
I don't wanna be wrong
I think that I read her
Glances
I was wrong
She took her chances
I want to be
So.meone who
Is in love
In each
Roman es
Did my part
But I caught
Her in glances
Summer. Winds
Are Autumn winds
When you
Take your
Chances