School Spring Poems | Examples
These School Spring poems are examples of Spring poems about School. These are the best examples of Spring School poems written by international poets.
jacaranda blooms
wink on the way home from school -
summer coming soon
NATURE’S BIRTHING RAIN
Beautiful spring rain,
quenching the womb of the earth
with birthing waters;
sunshine waters of new life,
reflecting God-sent purpose.
Nature's womb is healed,
and birthing seeds have been sown;
renewed life coming:-
Palm branches waving,
symbolizing the coming
of eternal love:-
Stop hating yourself;
prune away those evil thoughts:
new life blossoming:-
Trees’ leaves were ripped off,
leaving nakedness behind
with teasing winter:-
Nude trees not ashamed
as winter winds teased them;
their hope barked in spring:-
Through thrusting winter,
naked trees never gave in;
waiting coming leaves:-
Daffodils’ mild scent does permeate the air.
Through the fields dogs do dither then tear.
Rabbits serendipitously spotted that sunny yet showery day.
Many an egg the local farmer’s chickens does lay.
Easter hunt, easter hunt school laxation-professor
Does bear the brunt.
Buttercup, buttercup held bashfully to her face.
Out in the fields, they fiercely chase and race.
Horses, horses are ridden proudly and well.
Pancake day, pancake day, a broken shell who could tell.
Sunshine and shower how nurturing nature makes us far from dour.
The slow budding, turn up of coloring; the tincture
in pinks, yellows, magnolia greens, and bluer skies.
Smile of eyes and mountain cheeks; a Springtime elixir.
Winter white and tawny skin absorbing sunny dyes.
She leans against the grand old oak, invoking a look.
The umbrella will soon cascade; lithe limbs of plush green.
School days, encroaching on playtime’s evergreen yearbook.
Cassie’s sleeveless wardrobe contrasts with season; serene.
The dandelions coaxing; red-rosiness of hair.
A dew-like rain gently tickles; surging honey bees.
This robin hums sweetly; will she meet harmony; pair.
John joins her freckles dot-to-dot; his eyes lemon squeeze.
All about them, in the park, a buzz and tweet; sweethearts.
They could meet; is he even in her class? Matters not.
She stands out in due season; perhaps when Summer starts?
Linger not, John, till Fall-Winter season; take a shot!
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 the hours, days and weeks of study
and a bone-deep fatigue that’s actually funny
We’ll live at the edge of intensity
near the the corner of drudging
and gather around the printer
at the media center
like a secular rite of passage
I think I need a daily grind—to keep my mind busy.
What’s wrong with me, that when I’m on vacation, I miss it?
What if work/study is one of my bone-marrow-deep love languages?
.
.
Songs for this:
Happy Dreamer by Laid Back
Easier Said Than Done by Thee Sacred Souls
(You're Better) Than Ever by illuminati hotties
In Spring
In spring water troughs
fart all the
musical notes, butterflies go to
Collage school, four-leaf clovers babysit
bulldogs, placemats collect bits of
string to
make balls, lichen await letters from
royalty all over
the world, sticks go for
runs, not to
lose weight, but just for
fun.
Every atom and molecule
of me was made by you
in the cauldron of your womb
and these five senses of mine
are as much yours to mirror
back your majesty.
For you I assemble the morning
with its chilly wind coming across
the bay, the bloom weighted branches
of magnolia bending over my way
and scenting this last month of winter
with a promise of spring.
And here, just over the water,
great scoops of cloud
sitting like sun licked ice cream atop
of the city skyline, soft serve
for this sensory breakfast
that I offer you
lifted on the laughter of children
on their way to school,
all this a blossoming
of abundant life held in a morning
gifted me, beauty born
of such unimaginable savagery.
When the chilly nights begin to subsides
every flower begins to open up
The weddings begin, producing spring brides
Now, the birds who left begin to fly home
The merry times ended with the winter
So now every child returns to their school
The ones the snow hid become disinter.
Now people could enjoy their defrosted pool
Soon enough our time will go to the fore
Then the new months will go so quickly by
The flowers will soon lie cold on the floor
spring will be gone soon, but try not to cry
Remember, spring won't be gone forever,
so do not forget it, never ever.
Springtime, you always arrive so gently,
as high school proms bring tears of friends
who know they must soon part.
I will try not to weep of fifty-six years ago,
as I see the vision of my siblings,
and I leap through sprinklers bright
with rainbows,
I promise, Spring,
I won't cry.
Spring sonata of the bird's songs,
as I recall the natural wall of hydrangea
blossoms of mint and powder blue in
our backyard.
Royal young roses so blushed on
the white trellis.
The Good Humor truck jingled down
the street.
Neighbor's children waved large wands
with giant iridescent bubbles floating
aloft to the envy of the cumulus clouds.
Oh, springtide, you're our lively maiden
with a honeysuckle crown.
The presence of your rising moon monarch
in the eve casting her silver cherish on
weeping willows.
You sail through the ages,
but remain a debutante emerging from
the gray of winter's waning.
I promised springtime, I wouldn't cry,
but my tears are healing.
I dreamily walk by the modest little
home on the sidewalk,
the beloved place,
the streets of my youth,
spring sonata of my heart's song.
I'm in no need of my walker-
as I'm a child again. ~
We moved back into the residence yesterday - we were jubilant - and had a slumb-over last night, to celebrate our reunification. We woke up joyous, on the right side of the same bed (slumb-over), and we’ve been bouncing off the walls ever since.
We’re in the ‘settling in’ phase, restocking our Keurigs, getting our same-’ol furniture in the same-’ol places, picking up our books. In this liminal space, between sugarplums and sutures, our shrinking free-time will sag with increasing weight. Even last night’s normally fabulous martinis began to taste metallically laced with formaldehyde.
Once we’re settled in, our leisure will begin to have the tight, mangled fit of a borrowed jacket. “We’ve got to gear up.” Lisa said, just this morning and even as I type this, my eyes are flitting between my dog-eared copy of Gray's Anatomy and the mcat prep hub.
Classes start in 5 days. Free days burn bright, but disappear in a blink. Time is a precious coin.
.
.
*slumb-over = slumber party
April came and the rains did fall,
May and June came with flowers for all.
Summer brought the heat of season,
and people sat in the living room air-condition.
Fall brought colors bright and bold,
Halloween haunted spirits nights cold.
And as the last leaf fell off the now naked tree,
Winter came and slapped a freezing spree.
In the lively hood of the dancing spring,
bustling actives merriness brings.
“Beyond the silence of summers end,”
the roll of the school bus wheels begin.
The school bus wheels rolling is great for me,
being a monitor provides my paycheck you see.
So “beyond the silence of summers end,”
the ride onto educational pursuit grins.