Such beautiful poetry, I love to come here and spend some time. The Housman one is a favourite, that poem just makes you want to get out and go adventuring, doesn't it? The Amy Lowell one is new to me, it is such exquisite imagery. It is a beautiful, breezy Spring day here, I am going to venture out soon for a stroll myself.
Here is one by my dear Lucy Maud, who some find very old fashioned and Victorian, but I have cherished her books and poems since I was a child and I love the way she weaves her words. She really did believe in fairy magic. Although she lived a sad, unfulfilled life in many ways. beauty was always with her.
Spring Song by Lucy Maud Montgomery
Hark, I hear a robin calling! List, the wind is from the south! And the orchard-bloom is falling Sweet as kisses on the mouth.
In the dreamy vale of beeches Fair and faint is woven mist, And the river's orient reaches Are the palest amethyst.
Every limpid brook is singing Of the lure of April days; Every piney glen is ringing With the maddest roundelays.
Come and let us seek together Springtime lore of daffodils, Giving to the golden weather Greeting on the sun-warm hills.
Ours shall be the moonrise stealing Through the birches ivory-white; Ours shall be the mystic healing Of the velvet-footed night.
Ours shall be the gypsy winding Of the path with violets blue, Ours at last the wizard finding Of the land where dreams come true.
Yes, the Amy Lowell one sings to me the most Lady True...spiritual, magical...
thank you for the Lucy Maud Montgomery poem it is magical and definitely nothing staid about it...almost sensual in places...and has the innocence of a pure soul like the child's heart...seems lke nothing unfulfilled in a soul that can reflect the beauty that many people miss!
Loving the photo, did you take that? the contrast is so striking, a powerful image for sprong solstice perhaps.... the turning point of the wheel of the year! gorgeous!
I love the images in this spring poem by D.H Lawrence
The Enkindled Spring
D.H. Lawrence (1916)
This spring as it comes bursts up in bonfires green, Wild puffing of emerald trees, and flame-filled bushes, Thorn-blossom lifting in wreaths of smoke between Where the wood fumes up and the watery, flickering rushes.
I am amazed at this spring, this conflagration Of green fires lit on the soil of the earth, this blaze Of growing, and sparks that puff in wild gyration, Faces of people streaming across my gaze.
And I, what fountain of fire am I among This leaping combustion of spring? My spirit is tossed About like a shadow buffeted in the throng Of flames, a shadow that’s gone astray, and is lost.
beautiful words Lady Grace, the image of the glitter on the butterly wings is beautifully transcendent
It brings to mind the following piece of writing by a favourite writer of mine! it takes us a little off topic but..
The Lesson of The Butterfly
A man spent hours watching a butterfly struggling to emerge from its cocoon. It managed to make a small hole, but its body was too large to get through it. After a long struggle, it appeared to be exhausted and remained absolutely still.
The man decided to help the butterfly and, with a pair of scissors, he cut open the cocoon, thus releasing the butterfly. However, the butterfly's body was very small and wrinkled and its wings were all crumpled.
The man continued to watch, hoping that, at any moment, the butterfly would open its wings and fly away. Nothing happened; in fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its brief life dragging around its shrunken body and shrivelled wings, incapable of flight.
What the man out of kindness and his eagerness to help had failed to understand was that the tight cocoon and the efforts that the butterfly had to make in order to squeeze out of that tiny hole were Nature's way of training the butterfly and of strengthening its wings.
Sometimes, a little extra effort is precisely what prepares us for the next obstacle to be faced. Anyone who refuses to make that effort, or gets the wrong sort of help, is left unprepared to fight the next battle and never manages to fly off to their destiny.