Springtime poetry , After the Winter By Claude McKay
After the Winter
By Claude McKay
Some day, when trees have shed their leaves
And against the morning’s white
The shivering birds beneath the eaves
Have sheltered for the night,
We’ll turn our faces southward, love,
Toward the summer isle
Where bamboos spire the shafted grove
And wide-mouthed orchids smile.
And we will seek the quiet hill
Where towers the cotton tree,
And leaps the laughing crystal rill,
And works the droning bee.
And we will build a cottage there
Beside an open glade,
With black-ribbed blue-bells blowing near,
And ferns that never fade.
The Cycle Of Seasons – Poem by ann rta’s
Spring, days lengthening and warming slowly
green shoots daffodils and gambolling lambs.
Summer, sunny and hot lazing in deckchairs
rambling roses blooming strawberries and cream.
Autumn, wind blustering with nights drawing in
dying leaves changing to red/gold before falling
Winter, cold and bringing frosts, snow, ice,
dark brown trees stark and bare animals hibernate.
Seasons whirling in a revolving cycle,
marking the endless passage of time.
I was once;
the Spring child
the Summer teenager
the Autumn adult,
now, I am approaching
the Winter of old age.
Oh, that I could go back and return
like the Seasons
to the Spring again.
The First flowers of Spring, The Primrose a Poem Thomas Carew
The Primrose
Thomas Carew
Ask me why I send you here
The firstling of the infant year;
Ask me why I send to you
This primrose all bepearled with dew:
I straight will whisper in your ears,
The sweets of love are washed with tears.
Ask me why this flower doth show
So yellow, green, and sickly too;
Ask me why the stalk is weak
And bending, yet it doth not break:
I must tell you, these discover
What doubts and fears are in a lover.
Now the Snow has gone, it’s springtime at the River. Spring On The River, Poem By Archibald Lampman
Spring On The River
By Archibald Lampman
O sun, shine hot on the river;
For the ice is turning an ashen hue,
And the still bright water is looking through,
And the myriad streams are greeting you
With a ballad of life to the giver,
From forest and field and sunny town,
Meeting and running and tripping down,
With laughter and song to the river.
Oh! the din on the boats by the river;
The barges are ringing while day avails,
With sound of hewing and hammering nails,
Planing and painting and swinging pails,
All day in their shrill endeavor;
For the waters brim over their wintry cup,
And the grinding ice is breaking up,
And we must away down the river.
Oh! the hum and the toil of the river;
The ridge of the rapid sprays and skips:
Loud and low by the water’s lips,
Tearing the wet pines into strips,
The saw mill is moaning ever.
The little grey sparrow skips and calls
On the rocks in the rain of the water falls,
And the logs are adrift in the river.
Oh! restlessly whirls the river;
The rivulets run and the cataract drones:
The spiders are flitting over the stones:
Summer winds float and the cedar moans;
And the eddies gleam and quiver.
O sun; shine hot, shine long and abide
In the glory and power of the summer tide
On the swift longing face of the river.
Macro Images – The Wonder of Nature
The world we live in is full on the most amazing things, some of these things we see everyday around us in a very clear and detailed way, others we have to stop and take a little more time in order to observe. This is why when I get this time I love using a Macro Lens, you can get in close to the small things of life, getting a view that is hard to get from a distance.
This summer more than ever before I want to use my macro lens in order to record the small things in nature 🙂
Macro Photography – The Nature of early spring in Ireland
A Gallery of images taken over the last four days here in county Kilkenny and Tipperary, Springtime has almost arrived 🙂 ….
Three poems about sunlight …
Phoebe Hynes
Dec 5, 2016
A response to sunlight
You came to me in what I thought was a dream,
but it was actually the mundane,
and the secrets my conscious brain,
was keeping from me.
You were a part of reality all along,
it’s just taken me a bit to realize it.
Sunlight can be blinding,
and raindrops are more obvious.
The Filter of Sunlight
The drops of gold
Break through
The cover of leaves
I’m hiding behind
Peeking through
Touching me
Warming me
Making me realize
All the good
I’m hiding from
All the things
I should be happy about
The yellow rays
Burning the bad
Purifying my thoughts
Changing my mind
And I run out
Wanting to make a memory
Of this happy
Golden moment.
Ramisa R
Sep 25, 2014
Springtime Creativity
Lilacs bloom; birds sing
sunlight falls–
enlightening these
blank pages
Slievenamon, county Tipperary : The last Sunset of May 2016
The last Sunset of May 2016
The last days of May 2016, here in Ireland have been blessed with prefect springtime weather, bright and warm until well into the evening time, so yesterday evening when we both got home around 6pm we decided to pack a small meal and get outside to walk up our local mountain of Slievenamon, county tipperary.
It was a perfect evening and the views from the top of the mountain were just stunning in the evening sun. On getting to the top we eat our food and just enjoyed walking around the summit, taking in the 380deg view of the landscape below.
This was a perfect way the end the Month of May 2016 🙂 🙂
Slievenamon, county Tipperary : The last Sunset of May 2016, Gallery
The cycle of life – Spring time, Hoverflys feeding and new garden flowers.
Last week we took sometime to visit my Family in a holiday home in South Wales, it was a great week together and very special as we have a new baby in the family 🙂
Before we left for Wales, spring was just staring but on our return it was in full flow with so much new life all around, the cycle of life continues in so many different ways 🙂
Spring On The River – Poem by Archibald Lampman
This weekend i am planning to do some river walks, Springtime down near the rivers here in Kilkenny is a great experience with so much new life around.
What-ever you are doing I hope you have a great time 🙂
Spring On The River
By Archibald Lampman
O sun, shine hot on the river;
For the ice is turning an ashen hue,
And the still bright water is looking through,
And the myriad streams are greeting you
With a ballad of life to the giver,
From forest and field and sunny town,
Meeting and running and tripping down,
With laughter and song to the river.
Oh! the din on the boats by the river;
The barges are ringing while day avails,
With sound of hewing and hammering nails,
Planing and painting and swinging pails,
All day in their shrill endeavor;
For the waters brim over their wintry cup,
And the grinding ice is breaking up,
And we must away down the river.
Oh! the hum and the toil of the river;
The ridge of the rapid sprays and skips:
Loud and low by the water’s lips,
Tearing the wet pines into strips,
The saw mill is moaning ever.
The little grey sparrow skips and calls
On the rocks in the rain of the water falls,
And the logs are adrift in the river.
Oh! restlessly whirls the river;
The rivulets run and the cataract drones:
The spiders are flitting over the stones:
Summer winds float and the cedar moans;
And the eddies gleam and quiver.
O sun; shine hot, shine long and abide
In the glory and power of the summer tide
On the swift longing face of the river.
The First Morning Of April 2016
The first Morning of April 2016 has started here in Ireland with our usual spring rains
So time for a small poem to welcome it home once again ……
April rain
On your morning walk
let the rain kiss you on your face
let the rain beat upon your head with silver liquid drops,
Let the rain sing you a new song
just like the returning birds of springtime,
On this morning walk along the rivers bank
the rain makes waves upon the rivers flow
the rain dances on its surface,
If there are any Gods then they are in the rain
this rain that brings new life
a fresh start
this April rain.
The Last Afternoon of March
The Last afternoon of March 2016
This afternoon is bright and sunny
between the mountain clouds,
Springtime is in the air,
The weather is mild on this late March afternoon,
the breath of April is rising fast,
I am alone on the quiet mountain top
looking down on an old untried illusion
Some shadows sit on the green landscape below
memory’s rise from their sleep,
The crows fly above while others rest
on the stone walls of this mountain side,
In the air as hunting birds call
the fast hover of the kestrels wings.
Irish landscapes – Kilkenny , an evening in early springtime
The last of today’s sunlight was just perfect ….
This evening I took a walk along some of our local lanes , up in the hills near the village of Windgap, Kilkenny. The sun hung low in the sky an hour before sunset and filled the fields with vivid greens and long shadows from the hedgerow trees, just such a wonderful sense of early springtime which is just around the corner now, you can feel it just waiting to burst through…..
This is the best time of year with so many great months ahead of us ……
From Blossoms, Poem By : Li-Young Lee
From Blossoms
By : Li-Young Lee
From blossoms comes
this brown paper bag of peaches
we bought from the boy
at the bend in the road where we turned toward
signs painted Peaches.
From laden boughs, from hands,
from sweet fellowship in the bins,
comes nectar at the roadside, succulent
peaches we devour, dusty skin and all,
comes the familiar dust of summer, dust we eat.
O, to take what we love inside,
to carry within us an orchard, to eat
not only the skin, but the shade,
not only the sugar, but the days, to hold
the fruit in our hands, adore it, then bite into
the round jubilance of peach.
There are days we live
as if death were nowhere
in the background; from joy
to joy to joy, from wing to wing,
from blossom to blossom to
impossible blossom, to sweet impossible blossom.
– Li-Young Lee
“MAY” a Poem by: Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
May
by: Christina Rossetti (1830-1894)
I cannot tell you how it was;
But this I know: it came to pass–
Upon a bright and breezy day
When May was young, ah pleasant May!
As yet the poppies were not born
Between the blades of tender corn;
The last eggs had not hatched as yet,
Nor any bird forgone its mate.
I cannot tell you what it was;
But this I know: it did but pass.
It passed away with sunny May,
With all sweet things it passed away,
And left me old, and cold, and grey.
Three Poems with the title : Primrose
Primrose
By Pud
Primrose Stirs Lifts Up Her Head
Stands Up Tall On Softened Bed
Resurrected, As Winter Dreams
Primrose Smiles Or So It Seems
Primrose
By : Charlotte
You looked at me as if I were a
primrose
A delicate flower
with tiny petals
opening up to you
with little thorns to prick you with
when you make me angry
You plucked me up
away from the sun
and the moon
and the sky
and my little primrose friends
You put me in an expensive vase,
caring for me the best you could.
But sometimes you go away,
and alone
I am wilting
Primrose
William Carlos Williams
(1883 – 1963)
Yellow, yellow, yellow, yellow!
It is not a color.
It is summer!
It is the wind on a willow,
the lap of waves, the shadow
under a bush, a bird, a bluebird,
three herons, a dead hawk
rotting on a pole—
Clear yellow!
It is a piece of blue paper
in the grass or a threecluster of
green walnuts swaying, children
playing croquet or one boy
fishing, a man
swinging his pink fists
as he walks—
It is ladysthumb, forget-me-nots
in the ditch, moss under
the flange of the carrail, the
wavy lines in split rock, a
great oaktree—
It is a disinclination to be
five red petals or a rose, it is
a cluster of birdsbreast flowers
on a red stem six feet high,
four open yellow petals
above sepals curled
backward into reverse spikes—
Tufts of purple grass spot the
green meadow and clouds the sky.
Images from 2017, March – New life
Springtime 2017
Colour returns to the Woodlands
Kilkenny
Nigel Borrington
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December 30, 2017 | Categories: Comment, Gallery, irish woodlands, Landscape, Nature and Wildlife | Tags: 2017, Images from 2017, March, Nature photography, Nigel Borrington, Springtime | 3 Comments